Narcissa Malfoy sees what you did there. (vainglorious) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2009-08-31 13:34:00 |
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Even when she was alone, Narcissa Malfoy had a penchant for dramatics. Though the room was blissfully empty and quiet, she stretched out on the fainting couch she'd had brought over from her parents' house nearly five years earlier, her hair dangling over the arm in cascading waves. A blanket was tossed over her lap with practised carelessness, and everything about her positioning said one thing about her: she was used to being watched. Always. Her sitting room faced the south side of the grounds, and she'd simply stated when she'd come here that she would not have had windows overlooking the northof England. Ghastly. North? Toward what? Scotland? Wales? Egads, no thank you! Narcissa was convinced that the sunshine was best from the south, even if she never had any intention of setting one pale foot in it, and it always rained in the north. It was evening now, and the moonlight barely filtered through the curtains. Narcissa pondered the state of things by the warmth of the lamps scattered throughout the room, and how angry she was at Bellatrix for putting her family in such a precarious situation. Why, oh why had she even bothered to speak on Regulus's behalf? Hadn't she seen that their darling cousin had already stopped talking to him? It was kind of her to want to, but the journals were riddled with idiots who thought that anyone with a drop of pure blood had to be evil, and of course, the Ministry and the Aurors were losing their battles so quickly and bloodily that, of course, they would snap at any chance they got to discredit proud and noble families such as the Malfoys and the Blacks. At least Regulus had taken her seriously at her request to get rid of Dark Objects. If the others wouldn't care for themselves, Narcissa would simply have to fake sympathy and niceties with them until they reclaimed their senses. And if they didn't regain them, well, there were ways of dealing with that -- their being caught with such objects -- by society's rules even if it would break Narcissa's heart to ostracise even more of her family. Bellatrix and Regulus should both know better than to speak up about such nonsense. It wasn't proper and British to remind everyone of the scandal of their lives! Had they forgotten that? Should Lucius ever turn to a mistress, Narcissa would quietly suffer, but in public, she would smile and play her part, pretending it didn't bother her, even going as far as speaking on it kindly. She was already a consummate actress; pretending a mistress had been agreed upon would be a slice of cake comparatively. Tilting her head and placing one small hand under her chin, Narcissa looked forlornly at the journal on the little table next to her. Drawing in a deep breath, she wondered if she should write to Regulus. He'd been so upset over his parting with Chloe Wilkes, and she could not stand to see him like that. He liked to pretend that he wasn't as sensitive as he was, but Narcissa could easily see through that. When she heard the knock at her door, she didn't move. "Go away, Dobby. I don't want any tea at the moment." It didn't take any long pauses to gather composure for Lucius. It was Narcissa, after all -- his wife. Although, as of late the wall between them had been so substantial that he almost felt it did have substance, that it was tangible every night he lay beside her. As much as he knew had her (and the reverse, but it didn't need to be spoken), when she wanted, she could be so distant. At least it felt that way, perhaps because they were otherwise so entwined in each other's existence by now that even the smallest thing withheld tended to seem disproportionately and largely significant. She'd been already gone to sleep to his best knowledge whenever he came to bed, but Lucius could suspect otherwise on a few of the nights in the past week. He'd reached over once, to brush her hair out of her face, and it was mostly a feeling he had that she knew he was doing so. There wasn't a reaction, and so he let it be, shifting back to his place and being left to mull over how something was wrong. Every function they attended, and at every gathering of the pureblooded families had they been subjected to inquiries made in the politest of ways about whether the Malfoy-Black was expecting an heir. Though no one ever directly brought it up, it was not any hidden fact that both families had but one chance to see the line carry on when Narcissa Black married Lucius Malfoy. ...And, as of yet, they had no such heir to show for it. Even beyond what a husband and wife were at their leisure to do while alone in the bedroom, if Narcissa was to withhold those moments of trying to secure their families' posterity, then in the most prim way of putting it, Lucius had stepped into something decidedly foul. He eased the door open, then, at the sound of Narcissa's voice. He had an idea that it was to do with withholding from her in other ways that had been the cause of her attitude toward him, and as it went, someone would have to speak, and he knew a time had come to do just that. "I sent him away earlier," Lucius answered as he approached, hoping she might be moved by the sound of his voice, even if she hadn't by the knock. "So that we might talk." She was usually primed for every situation, but the thought that Lucius might come calling on her hadn't even crossed her mind. Though her initial surprise wiped from her face quite quickly, her body's rigidity and the way she seemed to be hovering rather than sitting gave her away. Sweeping her legs over the side of the couch, she pushed herself up gracefully. "Of course, Lucius," she answered, folding her hands together at her waist. There was a faint smile upon her lips, born of the useless hope that tonight he would tell her something. Finally. That neither of them would have to suffer in silence for the things that Lucius had done and would do. "What did you have in mind, my love?" The fraction of a moment in which Narcissa's expression had turned almost startled was not missed by Lucius, who crossed over to where his wife was sitting with some confidence returned to his step. It was a reaction, even if nothing else could be said of it. "My..." Lucius searched for the right word, but eventually settled on his original choice. It didn't fit, but he couldn't find a substitute in the brief pause. "Plans for tomorrow, darling. I brought up that our Lord had arrangements for myself that I needed to attend to?" He settled on the empty space of cushion beside her. "Yes, of course. I do remember," Narcissa replied distantly. Terrible timing for Bellatrix to cause such a stir, she thought, frowning at what she would do should something happen to Lucius. Should something happen and he was caught, there would be all sorts of bad press from it, and she would eventually have to pretend she had no knowledge of Lucius's dealings. It would be ludicrous if something as big as this attack forced an even bigger wedge between them, and so she decided on baby steps. "I don't like it, not so close to Bellatrix's outburst. Is there some place I should say you are, should someone call on you? Out hunting, perhaps? Or visiting cousins in France?" Noticing that he left the door ajar, Lucius withdrew and flicked his wand at it, so that it closed with a defined click! Even if Dobby was elsewhere attending to his chores, if never hurt to be assured they were alone. "Your sister decided on trying her hand at public outcries long after our Lord made his plans known." He wasn't going to harp on about that, however. It wasn't the reason Lucius had sought Narcissa out, but merely a point of annoyance now that Bellatrix had backed down from requesting the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to dig around their affairs like a destructive lot of hounds. Lucius lowered his wand, realising he had been unintentionally glaring at the white panel of the door the whole time as he swam about his thoughts, trying to find a good place to surface. "France would suffice. It's possible that I may need a cover for longer than that day." Narcissa's lips puckered at that admission. She'd not been aware that he would be gone for more than the day. Her nail dragged over the cold stones of her engagement ring as she pried her hands from her lap. There was no need to get nasty over Bellatrix; Narcissa had said all she needed to on the subject. And the little remaining family she had was quite dear to her, no matter their outbursts. "France would, indeed, be better if it's to be longer than a day." Though she wanted to ask where he was going, what he was doing, her pride refused to let her. Narcissa did not want to be shot down once more. "Will you let me know how long? I only ask because Dobby will ask me incessantly if he should fix your evening tea in the office." Household business was always a good excuse. This was, by far, harder than he had counted on when he originally worked up the steam to move himself to finding her. If there was a way to tell her all, and to be assured he didn't need to divulge too much in doing so -- well, it didn't make a lick of sense, but where the line was between defending her from certain truths and from unfaithfully keeping Narcissa in the dark was blurred at best. "As it stands, it may only be the day," Lucius returned, setting his jaw as he continued to look away from her. He allowed the room to dip into silence, before turning to look alongside at her. "There are more risks this time. You should know that, Narcissa. I've bit my tongue trying to keep you from worry, but I cannot vouch for how long..." She had to be reading him. The words he felt -- while not direct -- began to paint a picture. "Not until it's over with." So it was to be a big attack. Yes, she could read him, and right then she was reading that he was certain that chance would have its way at some point. On the one hand, he had vaguely told her something, hoping she could read him, what was to come. On the other, it sounded more and more as though he wasn't sure he'd come back from it. Narcissa liked this even less than being left in the dark, and she expressed her fear and uncertainty by jumping to her feet and striding across the room with a rather strangled cry. "No! Lucius. No, you cannot... do not tell me that you have no idea when you'll be back! It's not... I can't... Why can't they send someone else?" She had bolted off her seat before Lucius could even think to react. He jerked his attention up, following her as she crossed the room. Away from him. He wasn't willing to let that happen as he followed suit. "Narcissa, I have my orders," Lucius replied, trying to step around in front of her, begging her to stop pacing as he reached for her hands, hoping she wouldn't force his away. "I will not be alone. It's merely precaution that I warn you." "Your strengths lie elsewhere. You have to find a way to show him that you're worthy of being in the inner circle, Lucius. You can't go on doing the dirty work. It's beneath you. Leave that to the Yaxleys and the Selwyns and the Wilkes." Narcissa wasn't completely immune to her emotions, and particularly not when she felt that her beloved's life might be in danger. If he was worried enough to tell her... Her fingers latched onto his hands as she pulled herself directly in front of him. Worry turned down her lips, and it appeared she might be on the cusp of tears. "Promise me, Lucius. Promise me that you'll come back. Tomorrow. I don't care if it's a lie, just promise me." "And I am trying to," Lucius lightly countered, if only because that was the one thing he could say for himself. As it went, everything Narcissa said, every bit of her reasoning was something he already considered. He didn't want his hands sullied in that unspeakable 'dirty work' any more than she, but without being able to prove his use otherwise, what more could he do than to accept the tasks their Lord charged him with? "You know this," he implored her with. All the times he spent doing 'business' at the Ministry had to culminate at some point. It was waiting that was doing the harm now. Lucius looked at his wife's face, utterly shattered by what seemed to be eyes on the verge of tears. "Just as you know I will return home. That's my promise, darling." What more was there to say? He'd told her that it was a rather large attack and that there might be heavy consequences, not in so many words, but he'd freed her to worry. Worry forced her hands from his, though only to slip around his neck. Pressing onto her toes, she leaned up and kissed him softly for a moment. When the appropriate amount of passionate was initiated, she broke away only to whisper, "Let's retire for the evening." |