WHO: Lucius Malfoy & Narcissa Black WHAT: Falling in love. WHEN: 1996 WHERE: Various
What Lucius had expected to be a bad "date" had actually turned out fine. (He still hesitated to call it that, but for simplicity's sake, that was the word he settled on.) Actually, it had been more than fine. If he had been told that one day, he'd have dinner with Narcissa Black, at an incredibly expensive and gauche Italian restaurant that had just opened (that he suspected was chosen just because she knew he'd hate it), and that he'd not hate it, he would've passed it off as idealistic fiction. But here he was, sitting across from Narcissa Black, enjoying himself, occasionally even smiling at her, not even minding that the waiters were too loud. It was even, if he was pushed to say it, pleasant.
Not that he'd admit it, obviously. That'd make her think he wasn't opposed to another dinner with her.
Instead, he said: "The decor here is appalling." Lucius hoped it sounded like a judgment on her character as well.
Narcissa took a dainty bite of her meal and smiled across the table at Lucius as she chewed, realizing for what must’ve been the seventh time that evening that she wasn’t annoyed that he was so handsome. Which was almost irritating in itself, but strangely not at the same time.
“I thought you would like it,” she said once she dabbed her mouth with her napkin. She tried to sound mean, but a slight warmth crept into her tone at the last second and at best she sounded teasing.
"I'm fortunate that you kept me in mind while you made your decision," he said dryly, although he couldn't deny (to himself) that it was flattering that Narcissa had obviously put thought into choosing a place he wouldn't like. He always did like effort. "The color scheme is all wrong too. And have you noticed the size of these portions? These aren't meant for a meal." It was the curse of all luxury restaurants, but it didn't mean he wasn't allowed to dislike it.
It was a sign — indicating what, Narcissa didn’t know — that his complaints were, for the most part, her complaints. Perhaps it wasn’t so much a sign as it was a portent of impending doom. Agreeing with Lucius Malfoy was what one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse was called, wasn’t it? She would have to ask Rodolphus. That seemed like the sort of question he would know the answer to.
Out of the kindness of her heart, though, she did nudge the bread basket closer to Lucius.
“I’m so sorry you’re not enj—” The insincere apology died on her lips when she glanced up to see Leopold Yaxley being led to a table with his parents. She immediately reached for Lucius’s hand and laughed as prettily as she could, which was very pretty. “I had no idea you were so funny!”
The abrupt shift in conversation, and then her reaching for his hand, alarmed him and his confusion was made evident with a raised eyebrow, a slight frown. He didn't think he'd said anything particularly funny, but it was also a compliment — and he'd be remiss to turn those down, especially if they came from Narcissa. He nodded along with her words, smiling with what he hoped was less confusion than he felt. "I've been told that before," he said, patting her hand hesitantly. "I was being serious about it though."
There was no time to for Narcissa to clue Lucius in to what was going on because Leopold was looking right at them. He excused himself from his parents, who both raised an eyebrow at the sight of Narcissa Black with Lucius Malfoy, but gave them both polite nods before being led on by their waiter. Leopold’s expression was friendly as he stepped up to their table, even smiling ever so slightly at Narcissa, which wasn’t something he did very often at all.
“Narcissa,” he said warmly. He glanced down and saw her hand under Lucius’s, though, and a shadow flickered across his features. “Malfoy.”
“Hello, Leo,” Narcissa said, smiling brightly up at Leopold, looking pleased to see him. She slid her hand out of Lucius’s and folded her hands at the edge of the table. Inwardly, she was dying, though. She hadn’t prepared for this and suddenly, she was having second thoughts about this entire arrangement.
Lucius had no strong opinion about Leopold Yaxley. They rarely crossed paths, given their age difference, and the few times they had spoken, it had been polite. They had little in common, except for when they attended the same events. But he couldn't help but notice Narcissa's smile, and by extension, make the comparison to her smiles at him, and he felt a flicker at his intrusion. It explained why Narcissa had suddenly laughed. Lucius' eyes moved from Narcissa to Leopold, and he nodded. "Yaxley," he said coolly. "What brings you here? I wasn't aware you frequented these spots." He, of course, had no idea what spots Leopold Yaxley did frequent.
“Dinner with my parents,” Leopold answered, turning and gesturing the direction of his parents’ table before turning back to the two of them. “My father’s choice…” He glanced up, narrowing his eyes at the decor, which he clearly also found appalling. “It isn’t really my taste.” He looked at Lucius as he said this, as if to say he assumed it was his taste.
"It isn't," Lucius said easily, repressing the scowl that threatened to emerge as he looked around again. "But Narcissa and I —" there was a slight emphasis on the pairing, enough to notice but not enough to feel forced, "wanted to try something new." He smiled at Narcissa.
Narcissa smiled back at Lucius and thought, briefly, that his smile was much nicer than Leopold’s. Which was a disturbing thought that made her look away, her eyes finding Leopold again. She straightened a bit in her seat. “We did,” she agreed, not daring to look at Lucius again. “The food is delicious.” She leaned in conspiratorially and lowered her voice. “Though the portions are a bit small. But what can you expect from a restaurant like this?”
Leopold only gave a hum of acknowledgement and drew himself to his full height. “I had no idea the two of you were an item,” he said, almost abruptly.
Lucius didn't bother to hide his smile at Narcissa's comment and, for some reason, Leopold's clear dislike at the sight of the two of them sitting there made him smile even more. He was certain they hadn't feuded recently (as they hadn't spoken recently, it would be difficult for this to happen) and while Lucius thought Leopold should feel inferior to him, he had a feeling he didn't. Therefore, he concluded, it must have something to do with Narcissa, a conclusion that he reached with some unease and a bit of delight. He didn't like that Leopold was looking at Narcissa but then again, Leopold was under the impression that she was here with him. He didn't have to know that it was all part of an arrangement.
"Well, it's fairly new." Lucius impulsively reached for Narcissa's hand, intertwining their fingers together. "But it's going well, I think. Narcissa might disagree, though."
Their intertwined fingers made Narcissa’s eyes imperceptibly widen, but for the most part, she leaned into it, draping the fingers of her other hand over Lucius’s wrist and finally looking at him again with another smile. “I would disagree, actually,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “I would say it’s unfairly new. We’ve lost so much time!”
Leopold seemed unable to stop a furrow from forming between his eyebrows. “I thought you couldn’t stand one another.”
There was very nearly a moment where Lucius started laughing, but he was just able to stop himself. She was barely believable to his own ears, but as long as Leopold believed it, then that's what mattered. It occurred to him, much later than it should've, that it benefited them to sell it to Leopold, who could tell his parents, who would tell their friends that they were together, and thus, avoid a headache-inducing explanation as to what they were really doing. At the moment, however, what Lucius was concerned about was not this chain of gossip. He just wanted Leopold Yaxley to leave them alone.
"What's that trite saying?" Lucius began, waving his free hand. "There's a thin line between love and hate?"
The furrow between Leopold’s brows deepened and he looked to Narcissa for clarification.
“It’s true,” Narcissa agreed. “That’s a very trite saying.” She almost felt badly for Leopold, but it was his own fault for letting what happened with her sister stand in the way of what Narcissa strongly felt they should have together.
"But an appropriate explanation," Lucius added, enjoying the way Leopold looked more and more disgruntled. As he should. He looked behind him, towards where his parents were and looked back at the other man. "Your parents seem to be looking for you. You shouldn't keep them waiting."
Leopold opened his mouth to object, but Lucius cut him off. "Try the special. It's surprisingly good."
“Say hello to your parents for me,” Narcissa said, sweetly, as Leopold started to turn on his heel. Hurt seemed to flash across his features when he looked back at her, but she smiled, sweetly still, and he muttered his farewell, leaving them alone again. She gave Lucius a calculating look. “Liar. You couldn’t stop complaining about the special.”
"I changed my mind," he said tersely, his eyes still trained on Leopold Yaxley's back. Only when he sat down and began conversing with his parents did Lucius turn back to Narcissa, and to where their hands were still intertwined. He waited a long second before he pulled his hand back and wiped at his mouth for no reason at all. "In any case, I'm sure he'll hate it."
“You don’t like him,” she said, pulling her hands back to her side of the table, watching Lucius closely.
"He's fine," came the lie, although Lucius could find no reason to explain it that didn't trace back to Narcissa. It was aggravating. He debated his next words, rolling them around in his mind before he said them. "It's clear he's fond of you."
Narcissa was acutely aware of Leopold sitting behind her, but there was no way she could turn and look at him, not where she was sitting. She smiled tightly at Lucius instead. “Not fond enough,” she said, sounding far too casual. “Where is he sitting? Is he looking at us?”
His eyes narrowed and cast a cursory glance over Narcissa's shoulder, where Leopold was in fact looking at them. He averted his eyes at the last minute while Lucius rolled his. "He was," he answered. "Now he's expending quite an incredible amount of effort in pretending he's reading the menu. Are we quite sure he knows how to read?"
“He knows how to read,” Narcissa said, patiently, trying very hard not to smile. Lucius really didn’t like Leopold, but she wasn’t quite sure yet what that information meant. She reached for her fork and the very last bite of her meal, waiting again until she’d dabbed her mouth with her napkin before speaking. “What do you think about sharing a dessert? You don’t have any diseases, do you?”
"You've been thinking about Yaxley too much," Lucius said before waving a waiter over. "He's the one with the diseases." He didn't bother to hide his smirk. "How do you feel about tiramisu?"
“I’m fond of tiramisu,” Narcissa said, smiling at him. And, at the moment, she didn’t mind Lucius Malfoy either.
*
Lucius was still holding Narcissa's hand when they left the rink, and it wasn't as terrible as he imagined it would be. A lot of the things he had imagined would be terrible were less and less terrible by the day, and he had been the one to reach for her hand in the first place — whatever his point was, he'd lost it completely.
"Let's not do that again," he said, as he led her to a bench. "I think you took too much amusement from my struggling around on the ice."
“I think I took a perfectly acceptable amount of amusement from your struggles,” Narcissa replied, keeping a close eye on Lucius as the bench drew nearer in case he suffered another struggle. When she sat, she watched him sit, keeping a tight hold on his hand to steady him. There was likely something excessive about going ice skating for a fake date, but it’d been fun. He had actually made her laugh. And not just at him.
“I thought you did quite well, really, considering your giraffe lineage,” she teased.
"I never imagined it would be that difficult," he said with a side glance at Narcissa. Just a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have felt comfortable admitting it, but he no longer automatically assumed she would use whatever he said against him. It was… nice. His gaze lingered a minute longer than necessary. She looked nice too, with her blonde hair pulled back and a few strands framing her face. When he finally turned to his skates, he could feel his ears getting warm. Quickly, he started undoing his skates.
“You would get even better with practice,” she said, bending over her own skates and tugging at their laces. She glanced over at him and added, hastily, “But we don’t have to go again, of course.”
"I wouldn't mind going again —" Lucius was quick to amend his statement, lest he appear too eager. He wasn't eager. "I can most likely find time in my schedule. I don't want this to be your only impression of me out there."
“How kind of you,” she said, her tone warm enough that it didn’t sound sarcastic at all. She summoned her shoes from where they’d stowed them away before and his shoes, too, because she already had her wand out and he looked busy with his skates. Both pairs of shoes landed neatly between their feet and she busied herself with easing her skates off her feet.
The silence that settled over them gave Lucius time to think of a nonchalant way to propose they go to dinner — something about how it would be a waste of a day if they didn't go, though he hadn't exactly figured out the details or the delivery. But before he could offer his suggestion, a voice cut in. It was vaguely familiar; turning around made him realize why.
"Excuse me," Bridget Rowle said. "I don't mean to intrude. I was sitting here earlier and—" Only a slight widening of her eyes indicated that she recognized who she was talking to. "You didn't happen to see a silver bracelet around here, did you?"
"Bridget," Lucius greeted, ignoring her question, or forgetting it. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her, but it was unmistakably her. He hastily stood up and gestured to Narcissa. "Narcissa Black. I believe you know her."
Narcissa knew exactly who Bridget Rowle was, but she only spared a Bridget an irritated glance before returning her attention to tying the laces of her last boot. She made a show of looking to her right and her left before rising imperiously from her perch on the bench. There was something in the way Lucius said Bridget’s name that rankled, but it was ridiculous to be annoyed about that.
“I’m so sorry, Bridget,” Narcissa said, sounding the opposite of sorry. “I haven’t seen your bracelet. You should’ve sent your little boyfriend to look for it. Doesn’t he find shiny things for a living?”
"Narcissa, it's lovely to see you again. Lucius, it's been a while." There was no special affection in her voice, but her smile was bright, dimming a little at Narcissa's remark. "My fiancé is away this weekend. The bracelet was actually a present from him. You can see why I'm anxious to find it."
Once, his mother had said something offhand about what a shame it would be if Bridget Rowle married a Quidditch player and he had reacted poorly. He always thought, if he was ever faced with this news, that he would react much the same way. Yet, aside from the tiny spot of annoyance, all he felt was a skepticism that she would choose to marry said Quidditch player. There was no disappointment associated with the news. His eyes found her ring and Bridget noticed his eyes.
"It's fairly new. We're sending out the save the dates next month."
"How wonderful," Lucius said, with little enthusiasm. "Congratulations. My mother will be — excited to hear the news." It felt immeasurably strange to be congratulating a woman he'd half been in love with, or what he assumed was love, on her impending nuptials, but it felt stranger that he didn't care about it.
It was criminally unfair to Narcissa that Bridget Rowle would be allowed to marry her oaf of a Quidditch player and almost no one would bat an eye. “Congratulations,” she echoed, her tone even, her own eyes searching out Bridget’s ring. No one would marry Narcissa. Not unless she jumped through hoops to convince people she was worthy of them. Something hot and uncomfortable burrowed under her skin and she stepped closer to Lucius without thinking about it, taking some strange comfort from the brush of her sleeve against his.
“It sounds like he’s dreadful taste in jewelry, though,” Narcissa said, a slight wrinkle to her nose, “if it’s falling off your wrist. But I suppose you can train him. I’m sure he’ll take well to that.” She glanced up at Lucius. “I won’t have to train you, will I?”
The bewilderment was fleeting and his reply was easy. "Of course not. You haven't lost any of the jewelry I've gotten you, have you?" He had, in fact, never bought Narcissa any jewelry, but he liked to think he knew her style well enough to choose something that suited and fit her.
“No,” Narcissa said, giving him an amused smile, “I haven’t.” And then, mindful of Bridget and her lost bracelet, “I wouldn’t dare.”
The irritation plain on her face, despite her best attempts to rein it in, Bridget let out a laugh that was supposed to mean she didn't care about Narcissa's pointed remarks. It was clear that she did. "I'm quite lucky Hugo spoils me no matter how many times I lose something," she said. Lucius wasn't quite sure he'd feel the same way about it. "But enough about me! You're quite lucky too, Narcissa. I didn't think you'd recover from… well, what with your family's baggage and Leopold Yaxley tossing you over," (a sympathetic inclination of her head), "But here you are! With a Malfoy."
Forcefully, abruptly, Lucius cut in: "Bridget. That's enough."
Something cold had started to brew in Narcissa’s expression, something that seemed on the verge of slapping Bridget, but Lucius, cutting in on her behalf, snapped her out of it. She stared at him for a moment, both surprised by the gesture and feeling something else she couldn’t put her finger on. She reached for his hand, though, entwining her gloved fingers with his.
“Really, Bridget,” Narcissa said, with a laugh that actually conveyed that she didn’t care a whit about Bridget, “there’s no need to lash out because your fiancé is away all the time. I’m sure the wedding will be lovely, though. I look forward to seeing your save the dates!”
Bridget turned red, opened her mouth to retort, closed it, and looked like she was debating with herself over what to do next. She settled on a tight smile and an excuse to leave. It occurred to Lucius that she hadn't even made an attempt to look for her bracelet.
He suddenly felt the need to apologize. "That was out of line. I — Bridget isn't normally like that. Not to my knowledge."
Narcissa watched Bridget leave with narrowed eyes and scoffed at Lucius’s words. “Bridget Rowle is always a cow,” she muttered. But then, the implication of his words sank in and she released his hand. Of course Lucius would be friendly with Bridget. She looked at him, her fingers finding the knot of her scarf and toying with the folds of it. “How well do you know her?”
"Not very. I've only spoken with her a few times. She's," Lucius paused, then with reluctance continued again, "never thought much of me."
“You want Bridget Rowle to think of you?” Narcissa asked, curiously.
"Of course not. She's getting married." The full answer was more complicated, but essentially boiled down to no, but he hated rejection, even if Bridget Rowle clearly had exceptionally bad taste and she paled in comparison to Narcissa Black. "I haven't thought about her in years." This, however, was a simple and honest truth.
“Oh.” Narcissa’s fingers stilled on her scarf. Why did she feel relieved to hear that? Her eyes searched his face as she tried to decide if she trusted him. Bridget’s words still burned hot in her ears and Lucius was the last person she wanted to be reminded of her humiliating circumstances. “Thank you for saying something to her.”
He brushed off the gratitude, but couldn't help but smile as he reached out to pick something off her scarf. It was rather instinctual. "She's forgotten that her brother's gotten himself into worse trouble," Lucius said lightly.
A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Narcissa’s lips and her gaze fluttered down to her scarf before she met Lucius’s eye again. “That’s true,” she said, her voice a little faint. She swallowed and her smile grew a bit wider. “I think I know what I want my favor to be.”
"I'd wondered if you'd forgotten about that." The prospect didn't terrify him as it had a few weeks ago. "What are you thinking?"
“Let’s return our skates and I’ll tell you everything over dinner,” she replied. She bent to retrieve her skates and then paused, glancing up at him. “Does dinner sound all right to you?”
"I was about to ask you the same thing," he answered, and if his hand rested on the small of her back as they walked out, it was only so she could lead the way.
*
Santa Maria was disgustingly beautiful and exactly the sort of destination wedding Narcissa expected from someone like Bridget Rowle, who never seemed satisfied with the amenities of home if her French soon-to-be husband was any indication. The resort she’d set them all up in was beautiful, too, sprawling and picturesque and, as Narcissa stood in the room she was expected to share with Lucius for the weekend, somehow claustrophobic at the same time.
“I should’ve thought of this,” she admitted to Lucius.
The room was spectacular, paired with a beautiful view of the beach along with a spacious design. It practically screamed Look! We can afford a lavish wedding! When Lucius got married, he decided, he wouldn't express his wealth like this. Yet, despite how stunning it was, there was still the one bed, sitting in front of him, taunting him, calling out the sham of a "relationship" the two of them were in. He really should've thought of this.
"Rather cliché, isn't it?" He said, examining the room. He could transfigure something into another bed. It was better than Flooing down to the lobby and asking them to place another bed in their room — with his luck, word would get around and then it'd cause more problems than he wanted.
“Which part, honestly?” Narcissa asked with a laugh that sounded slightly nervous to her ears.
"That there's only one bed." He cleared his throat, but avoided Narcissa's eyes. "It just feels very cliché." A slight pause, then: "I'll transfigure another bed, don't worry."
She stared at the bed for a long moment and then, the contents of the room. “Nothing looks like it would make a very comfortable bed, though,” she said, her gaze drawn back to the bed, tilting her head thoughtfully at it. “The chairs barely look comfortable as chairs.”
Narcissa had a point. There was one chair in particular that looked like misery to sit on. He only had to imagine how it would feel to sleep on. "It's only for the weekend," he said, trying to sound as if it didn't matter, although it did. "Besides, it's not as if we can share the bed."
“It’s a large bed,” Narcissa said, trying to make it sound like an off-hand comment. Her fingers found the pendant of her necklace and she twisted it. She felt a bit guilty, if she was being honest, especially since there hadn’t been an argument over who would take the bed. He seemed to be volunteering, which was not something she would’ve expected of Lucius Malfoy before their arrangement began. “And we could make a pillow barrier?”
Lucius stared at the bed. It was certainly intended for two people and he'd be lucky if the transfigured bed would be half as comfortable as this bed would be. On a practical level, it made perfect sense. On a subjective level, he wasn't sure if he would be able to make it through the night sleeping with — next to — Narcissa Black, not with the strange feelings he'd recently discovered. "Are you… sure?"
No, Narcissa really wasn’t sure. But it was only a bed and she was asking a lot of him. She swallowed, twisting the chain of her necklace around her fingers a bit tighter, and nodded. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day and you won’t perform well if you aren’t well-rested.” She looked at him now and then, quickly away. “You only have to promise to stay on your side of the pillow barrier.”
"I wouldn't want to disappoint you," Lucius said with a forced ease, his eyes flickering over to Narcissa, who kept twisting her necklace around. It made him less nervous to see that she was also nervous. "I'll adhere to the barrier. Which side would you like?"
“Let’s see,” Narcissa said, mostly for something to say. She released her necklace, grooves dug into her skin where she’d wound it too tightly around her fingers. Spending an entire night alone with Lucius felt too vulnerable for her, even more so because there was a part of her that wanted it. “The left? The view is lovely.”
Surprisingly, it worked out perfectly. "I prefer the right side," he explained, pleased at the ease by which they had both decided. He walked to the aforementioned side and sat down, relishing the comfort of the mattress before inclining his head at her. "Should I pretend I bought you that necklace?"
It was somehow worse seeing him on the bed. “Hmm?” she asked, blinking at him. She slowly lifted her hand to her necklace again, covering the pendant with her fingers. “This? No, I’ve had it for ages. There are people who’d know better.” She paused. “You could buy me a necklace.” Then, remembering their arrangement, “I would give it back.”
He had thought about it before they came here, had gone back and forth on whether it was a good idea, whether it'd make her think things that were possibly true, whether it was a proper gift for how she'd helped him through this. He had even gone to a store, looked around, and consulted one of the clerks before he left without a purchase. It was too much, he had concluded. But now that she mentioned it, he was doubting his original decision, and perhaps that was why he said, "You wouldn't have to give it back. It'd be fine if you didn't."
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be appropriate to keep it,” she said, rounding the bed and sitting on her side of it. “But I can pick something out for you, too, if you like. A tie, perhaps?”
Turning towards Narcissa, he reassured her, "It's my way of saying thank you. I wouldn't return the tie, so it's only fair. Unless it's a ridiculous one."
“All right,” she said, smiling slightly. “I won’t return the necklace either.” She eased her legs up onto the bed to properly face him, carefully arranging the skirt of her sundress over her folded legs. “You don’t have to thank me, though. It isn’t as though you aren’t helping me, too.”
He cast his eyes down at her skirt, distracted by the flash of color, before frowning in confusion. "Forgive me if I'm skeptical of that claim. I don't see how I'm helping you in the slightest. You're the one doing this for nothing."
“You heard what Bridget said at the ice skating rink, Lucius,” Narcissa said, unable to look at him.
His frown only deepened at the memory, but he hadn't realized Narcissa had taken it to heart, or let it affect her as much as it did. "That was nonsense. You're a Black," he said firmly, simply, as if that settled the matter. In all fairness, it did. And, because he also remembered the other part of Bridget's words, Lucius couldn't resist adding, "Leopold Yaxley is an idiot. He doesn't deserve more thought than that."
“Obviously, Leopold is…” She couldn’t bring herself to call Leopold an idiot, even now, so she shook her head. She met Lucius’s eye. “But Bridget isn’t the only one saying those things. It’s everyone. Except for you, I suppose.” To hear him say it was nonsense made her feel something complicated, something that almost made her want to lean in.
She wasn't wrong about that; he'd heard it from more people than just Bridget Rowle, moreso now that he was seemingly attached to Narcissa. They were more subtle about it with him, but he still paid no heed to it. He spelled out his reasoning to her. "With families like ours, everyone's always waiting for something to happen. They," and here, he was referring to the disowned Blacks, without referring to them, "don't matter anymore. Everyone knows that. Is it your fault that they're clinging to the past?"
Out of habit, she started to reach for his hand, but she remembered, before her fingers brushed his, that they were alone. Narcissa pulled her hand back to her lap and shook her head. “Of course not,” she said, staring down at the bedspread, sounding caught off guard. “But it does help to have an association with you. So, you see?” She glanced up at him now. “You’re helping me, too.”
"I'll take your word for it."
Something compelled him to do what he did next, lean over and press his lips to her cheek, lingering just slightly, imperceptibly. He moved back just as quickly, standing up, brushing off (nonexistent) lint off his shirt. "I should get ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight," he said, a poor excuse, albeit an honest one. His disappearance into the bathroom occurred without another word.
Narcissa watched him go with wide eyes, lifting her hand to cover her cheek with her fingers once the bathroom door was closed behind him. She had a sneaking suspicion she was in over her head.
*
Despite Narcissa’s repeatedly willing it so, Bridget didn’t trip once during her wedding ceremony the next day. Which was unfortunate, because after an entire night of sleeping with — next to — Lucius Malfoy, her nerves could’ve used the levity. As it stood, she had to make it through the reception without a single happy memory from the ceremony, both of which had been frustratingly lovely.
“Are you nervous?” she leaned in and asked, her eyes entreating.
He was. He had been nervous the whole night as he slept with — next to — Narcissa, which had kept him up for a frustratingly long two and a half hours. He had been nervous when he woke up, and even more nervous when he saw Narcissa right next to him. He had been nervous when he saw her in her blue dress (it was the best color on her) and he had been nervous, although he thought he hid it well, when he complimented her on it. Now that he had to stand up in front of everyone and proclaim his love for Narcissa Black, in the middle of Bridget Rowle's wedding reception, there was no way he could not be nervous.
But it wouldn't do to show it. "Only about how much the wedding party will kill me afterwards."
That was enough for Narcissa, though, and she smiled at him. “I won’t let them,” she said, reaching for his tie, adjusting it so the knot lay at the very center of his throat.
His breath did not hitch when she fixed his tie, but he still let out a deep breath once she had removed her hands. Composed again, he leaned in close and lowered his voice, "You'll have to explain to my mother why they've killed me and disposed of my body then."
“I said I won’t let them, Lucius,” she said, smiling. His closeness was disarming, though, and she rested one of her hands at the front of his shoulder without thinking. “You can trust me to protect you from them.” She waved her other hand dismissively. “But if I fail, I’ll inform your mother.”
"That's all I ask," he murmured, deliberately leaning into her touch. He kept his eyes focused on the table in front, where Bridget's cousin, or aunt, he couldn't exactly remember, was giving a speech about how Bridget and Hugo were destined to be together, even with the Quidditch thing taking him out of the country so often, and other drivel that Lucius tuned out. He had resolved to speak next, so that he could be finished with it. As soon as Bridget's cousin or aunt sat down, he clinked his glass with his knife and stood up, casting a smile at everyone before him. Bridget — not expecting him to speak — looked confused. Hugo stared blankly at him. Lucius nodded his head at them, a half-apology of sorts. It was incredibly rude what he was about to do, but he had promised.
"First of all, I want to congratulate the bride and groom. Bridget and Hugo are charming together and while no one is clear as to how Hugo managed to win over Bridget," some scattered laughter, Bridget included, "I know I'm speaking for everyone when I say, we are all so glad that he did. Or perhaps she's only staying with him for his money." This last bit was delivered with a smile, as if to indicate it was a joke that everyone should laugh about — which they did. "The ceremony was spectacular too and all the romance in the air has really led me to a few realizations myself."
He looked down at Narcissa and gave her his best smile, ignoring the way his heartbeat had picked up. "As you all may know, Narcissa and I have been seeing each other for some time now." Bridget's brow furrowed. "We didn't have the best of starts — in fact, we rather disliked each other back at school, but," Lucius chuckled, prompting others to echo him, "I suppose it was always hiding what I now know to be true, that… that I love her." He looked at anywhere but Narcissa during this. "And that she's made me the happiest that I've ever been or ever thought I could be." There were a few people in shock and others who were offended that he was trying to upstage the bride and groom. Bridget looked like she was about to fly over her table to stop him from going further. "It's really thanks to your celebration that I could understand this."
Finally, he looked back at Narcissa, possibly a big mistake, because he was struck by how beautiful she was in that moment and how much he could see his words being true someday. At this thought, he bent down and brushed his lips across hers, the briefest of kisses, and then sat down, only just remembering that they were at a wedding reception with hundreds of guests, half of which must've wanted to strangle him on the spot. He couldn't, however, resist the last word. "Oh, and of course, congratulations to Bridge and Hugo."
Confused, the half of the wedding reception that didn’t want to strangle Lucius drank to his toast while Narcissa stared at him in surprise, just barely resisting the urge to touch her lips while everyone was watching. Even the vengeful part of her that had wanted to upstage Bridget sat in a stunned silence. Was Bridget upset? Narcissa hadn’t the faintest idea. She was too busy, like Lucius, coming to realization that someday his words could be true for her, too.
Only a short beat passed between his final words and Narcissa’s reaction. She reached for his cheek and smiled at him before leading him in for a firmer, lingering kiss. When she broke it, she wound both of her arms around his neck in a hug, saying and alarmingly close to meaning, “I love you, too.”
Lucius smiled into her hair, pressed a kiss against her shoulder, and pushed her words to the back of his mind — he was going to digest them, but not right now.
*
It had only been a matter of time until his parents wanted to have dinner with Narcissa, and because he couldn't find a good enough excuse to prevent that from happening, he'd invited her over and expected the night to be a disaster for a number of reasons. They were in a weird stage, and had been ever since Bridget's wedding, where he wanted something more, something real, but he wasn't sure if she did too, or if he had been misreading everything since, or if he was just projecting. The state of uncertainty they were in bothered him immensely and it made their interactions tentative and awkward. The dinner, he thought, would only exacerbate that.
But it hadn't — in fact, it set him at ease. His parents loved her, couldn't stop remarking about how lovely she was, and had not-so-subtly dropped hints about expecting an important announcement soon. By the end of the dinner, as his parents said their goodbyes, he felt like he was on familiar territory with Narcissa again.
He only paused slightly before he asked, "Would you like to take a walk?"
“I’d like that,” Narcissa answered and she meant it. She was in very much the same boat as Lucius, yearning for something that wasn’t just for show, but it was her ever-present mistrust holding her back from asking for it.
It had been nice, seeing him interact with his parents at dinner, and she’d liked them. The Malfoys had put her at ease and made her feel like Narcissa again instead of Andromeda’s sister. The only scrutiny she’d endured was that of a parent deducing whether or not she was good enough for their child. It pleased her that she seemed to meet their standards.
He led them outside because the air was just nice enough that they could warm up by walking, but not cold enough that it would be a bad idea to stay out for longer than ten minutes. "Did you enjoy dinner? My parents liked you a lot."
“I did! And I’m happy your parents liked me.” The air felt strangely charged and she had a sudden urge to ask him if he liked her, too. But, instead, she tucked her hair behind her ear and added, “I liked them! Though,” and she laughed, “they’re dreadfully unsubtle, aren’t they?”
Lucius shook his head in embarrassment. "They've been waiting quite some time for this. I'm surprised they didn't have invitations at the ready."
Narcissa laughed again, but didn’t say anything right away. It was quiet outside and they were alone and she found herself liking all three of the Malfoys far too much. She stopped in her tracks and reached for his arm to stop him, too. “Lucius, is it going to be my fault when we…?” She trailed off, but hoped he knew what she meant.
He knew what she meant, but there was a twisting feeling that emerged when he thought about it. They had never discussed this past that first suggestion, and even then, they had kept it vague. It wasn't as if he anticipated actually developing feelings for Narcissa Black.
"Oh," he said, quietly, dreadfully. "Of course not. It — it can be mine." But they didn't have to, he wanted to add.
Her eyes swept across his face, searching for some sort of sign as her heart clenched behind her ribcage. “Well,” she said, faintly. Her hand automatically went to her necklace, twisting it. “What if it wasn’t yours either?”
"You don't mean…" he said, searching her face to see if she meant what he hoped she meant, "We're not blaming it on someone else, are we?"
“No one,” she replied. She let go of her necklace and decided to trust Lucius Malfoy. “It seems a bit silly to blame someone else for something that won’t happen, doesn’t it?”
What seemed like a million thoughts streamed through his mind, but the most important one, the one he focused one was the realization that Narcissa felt the same way. It was an exhilarating thought and it brought a wide smile to his face. "You're absolutely right. There's no use in discussing it then." He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face and smiled again. "Just so we're clear… you feel the same way."
It was impossible not to smile back at him and she tentatively rested her hands on his chest. “I’ve grown very fond of you the past few months,” she said, her words careful and slow in case she was somehow overstepping. It was hard to imagine that she’d ever hated him when what she felt now was entirely the opposite. “Is that how you feel?”
"You're really not that terrible, Narcissa Black," he said, teasing found in his words and reflected on his face.
“Oh, in that case, I do feel the same way,” she said with a laugh that felt too loud, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly, her hands sliding away from him. “I’ve never thought I was terrible.”
Lucius moved quickly to pull her back, his hands framing her face. "You were never terrible. I was just… an idiot." To characterize their contentious history as his own error was a sign of the seismic shift in opinions he'd experienced. "To be clear," he repeated again, "I'd quite like to see you. Officially this time."
“I’d like to see you, too,” she echoed, returning her hands his chest and smiling at him. “Officially.” She bit her lip and her gaze wavered for a moment, dropping to one of her hands before she could make herself look at him again. “You were never terrible either. I don’t mind if both of us take the blame for all of that.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, even though they were alone. “For the being idiots business.”
"I'll accept that." There were a lot of things he wanted to say, a lot of things they needed to talk about. He wanted to ask her when she'd started changing her mind and if she'd ever thought this would happen. He knew that she would want to know too. But at the moment, there was only one thing he really wanted to do. "I'm going to kiss you now," he said, his gaze dropping down to her mouth.
“I think you should,” she said, closing what little space was left between them and letting him kiss her. He was right that she wanted to know everything and she would eventually ask, but standing outside in the cool night air, the silly comment she’d made to Leopold Yaxley suddenly rang true. They’d lost time and she intended to make up for it.
*
The match hadn’t started, but Narcissa was already wrinkling her nose. Quidditch wasn’t her favorite pastime, but competition certainly was. And the VIP box she and Lucius were seated in certainly helped matters. Lately, being anywhere with Lucius helped matters. She glanced up at him from her program and smiled at him.
“I’ve decided I’m going to cheer for —” She glanced at her program again. “— Puddlemere United. So you’ve to cheer for the Caerphilly Catapults. Whoever loses has to…” She looked at him expectantly.
When a Quidditch organization offered you VIP tickets, it was hard to turn them down, even if you held a grudge against Quidditch. They had a fantastic view, were surrounded by other rich and powerful people (he thought he saw the Undersecretary to the Minister here too), and he was here with Narcissa. There was very little that could ruin this day.
Lucius idly flipped through his own program. "You'll have to steal Rabastan's newest copy of Auror Adventures. He hasn't shut up about it for days."
“Oh, Rabastan,” she said pityingly, fanning herself with her program now and glancing out over the contents of the stadium. “I thought for sure he would grow out of that. All right, though. And you’ll have to ask him to borrow it.”
"He might think I'm taking an actual interest," Lucius said with a laugh. "But I'll do it. If I lose, of course." More people made their way into the box, sitting down and chattering with the excitement of real Quidditch fans. He judged them internally. His eyes landed on Narcissa again, smiling when he saw what she was wearing. "The necklace looks perfect on you."
Narcissa brushed her fingers over her new necklace and smiled back at him. “It’s a beautiful necklace,” she replied, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you again.” Still smiling, fondly, she reached out to wipe traces of her lipstick from his cheek, breathing out a laughed apology.
When she pulled back, she caught sight of a familiar face standing frozen in the aisle behind Lucius, staring right at them. “Oh! Leopold, I didn’t expect to see you there.”
“Hello, Narcissa,” Leopold said slowly, stepping out of the aisle to stand in front of the two empty seats off to Lucius’s side. His expression darkened somewhat when his eyes fell on the other man and through his teeth, he added, “Malfoy.”
There was a very vivid feeling of deja vu, but he was also very aware that there were a number of important differences with the previous time. He and Narcissa weren't pretending this time, he had nothing to prove (or, it was of secondary importance), and he didn't care what Leopold Yaxley thought (or, at least not as much — he did hope there was a trace of her lipstick on his cheek, after all). "Yaxley," he said, only barely keeping the smugness out of his voice. "We're always running into you."
“We are,” Narcissa agreed, leaning into Lucius’s arm to better speak with Leopold. She felt similarly like she’d nothing to prove to Leopold Yaxley anymore. His good opinion meant very little to her now that she had Lucius’s. “It’s nice to see you again, though. Are you with your parents again?” There was a note to her tone that very clearly conveyed an unspoken, ‘Like always.’
“Ah, no,” Leopold said. “My brothers.” He squared his shoulders at them. “But yes, I suppose we run in the same circles. You caused quite the stir at the Rowle wedding.” He chuckled, but it was entirely humorless.
"Did we?" Lucius asked, feigning surprise as he turned to look at Narcissa before looking back at Leopold. "I suppose I got caught up in the moment. I don't regret it, obviously. You really should've seen the groom nearly drop Bridget when they left. That was much more of a stir."
“Wouldn’t it have been terrible if he actually had dropped her?” Narcissa didn’t sound like she thought it would be all that terrible, though. “Poor Bridget. Let’s hope he performs better on the…pitch?” She glanced curiously between the two men, her knowledge of quidditch questionable at best. “Anyway, it was a lovely wedding.” The stir they’d created wasn’t far from her mind, though. She touched her necklace again and her tone was entirely serious when, looking at Lucius like he was the only one there, she added, “It was even nicer to share it with someone I love.”
The subsequent kiss was genuine, but Lucius couldn't deny that it was immensely satisfying that Leopold looked like he was choking on his own tongue. "Weddings always are," he said. "Oh, my apologies. We've been sharing too much. How have you been?"
Leopold's face went through a cycle of emotions, his eyes darting between the two of them. "I've been doing well. Work keeps me busy," he finally said, the emphasis pointed.
Lucius was right. Leopold was an idiot. And not nearly as handsome as she’d once thought. “That’s nice, Leopold,” Narcissa said, giving him her most condescending smile. “It’s a pity you’re so busy. It would’ve been nice to do coffee sometime.” She turned a much fonder smile on Lucius. “I suppose I’ll just have to do coffee with you instead.”
"I do much prefer coffee with just us." Then, to Leopold, a quick, "No offense, of course. You know how it is."
"Of course," came Leopold's forced reply. "I'll have to find some time for coffee another time."
"We'll be very busy for the foreseeable future," Lucius said immediately. "We've been planning a trip." They, in fact, had not, but Leopold didn't have to know that.
This was the first Narcissa was hearing about a trip and her smile went a little crooked with amusement. She went along with it, though. “We are! I’m really looking forward to taking time off from work,” she said with the same inflection as Leopold.
A muscle in Leopold’s jaw tensed. “Oh? Where are you going?”
Narcissa propped her elbow on the armrest between her and Lucius, resting her chin on her hand and turning her amused smile on Lucius. “You tell him, my love.”
"I had planned to keep the details a surprise, but since you're," this was meant for Leopold, "curious, I suppose it doesn't hurt. It'll be two weeks in Italy and then two more in Greece — did you know Narcissa's always wanted to see Greece?"
“I did, actually,” Leopold said as Narcissa delightedly asked, “Really?” He didn’t, actually, know that about her and surprise briefly registered on Narcissa’s face to hear him claim it.
A raised eyebrow accompanied Lucius' response. "Did you? Well, then you'll know how exciting this all is for her — us. We'll be sure to send a postcard back."
“A postcard from the Parthenon, I think,” Narcissa said, scrutinizing Leopold closely. This was pathetic. And exactly what she’d assumed would happen when she agreed to start pretending to see Lucius. Only now she was actually seeing Lucius and she didn’t want Leopold at all. She turned to Lucius. “We’re going to Athens, aren’t we?”
Leopold was starting to lose his composure. “You expect me to believe you’re going abroad with Malfoy for four weeks? Narcissa, I thought —”
“Leopold, you’re going to cause a scene,” she said quietly, a little dangerously, looking away from Lucius now.
The people behind them were starting to stir, their interest clearly piqued by this display. It would be embarrassing, except he wasn't the one embarrassing himself. That honor was all Leopold Yaxley's. Smoothly, Lucius added, "You might want to sit down now. The game will begin shortly."
There was a tense silence as Leopold stared at the two of them, torn between interrogating further and listening to Lucius' suggestion. The whispers of the others in the box forced his hand; with muttered apologies and a goodbye, he shuffled further along until he got to his seat. Lucius smirked.
"I can't believe you were set on him," he said, hoping he didn't sound too disgruntled.
Narcissa breathed out a sigh. “He’s older and he has his own flying carriage. I thought —” But she only sighed again. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Leopold Yaxley is an idiot.”
"I've always said so." He let out an annoyed sigh and then decided to let it go. Narcissa was right. It didn't matter and Leopold's outrage was enough to make things better. He pressed a kiss against the side of her head and added, teased, "I thought I'd have to propose just to get him to leave."
“Lucius!” she laughed, swatting at his arm. “At a quidditch match!” But, curious, she looked at him thoughtfully. “How would you have gone about it?”
"If I'd known he was here," Lucius began, "then I would've had a whole display planned during the half. Fireworks, dancers, and then asked you. I would've had to excuse myself and put something like that together. Would his head have exploded right then and there?"
“He would’ve made an absolute mess,” she replied with a nod, smiling. “I like the fireworks, though. But I don’t know about the dancers. I think you should excuse yourself and have one of the players from my team fly you up to my seat. I wouldn’t expect that!”
He gave her an amused look and asked, "Have you been thinking about this often?"
“Maybe,” she said, coyly fanning herself with her program.
"Oh?" He asked, deliberately lightly. "Should I be contacting Quidditch players then?"
For a beat, her program stilled and she shifted ever so slightly in her seat. Suddenly, she wished desperately for one more chance to talk to Andromeda, who she was sure would know what to do, but just as quickly, the moment passed and she started fanning herself again.
“If you want to borrow my idea,” she said. “But I think a jeweler would be the best place to start.”
He pretended to make a note of that. "Where would I be without you?"
“Here with Rabastan, probably,” she answered. “And he understands this whole thing —” she flapped a hand at the rest of the stadium “— so he’d make you talk about it. And you’d be terribly bored.”
"Don't tell him, but given that scenario, I much prefer your company." He tucked some hair behind her ear and smiled, leaning in conspiratorially. "I do hate being bored."
She smiled back at him and leaned in the rest of the way to give him a peck on the lips. “I’m going to make sure you’re never bored.”
Lucius liked the sound of that very much. "I wouldn't have it any other way."