InsaneJournal

Who: Narcissa and Pansy Malfoy
What: Ladies who Lunch
Where: Around town
When: mid-July (backdated like WOAH)
Rating/Status: Low



Malfoy.

Pansy Malfoy.

It still had a glorious ring to it, new and thrilling and the girl attached to it found herself mouthing the name to her reflection several times a day. Perhaps the novelty would wear off before long, reducing her need for reassurance and reiteration; but Pansy couldn’t imagine ever being any less enamoured of her new position in life than she was right now.

When Narcissa had suggested a day out for shopping and lunch, just the two of them, it had been easy to decide what she might like to purchase for herself: something to symbolize her new name, her new place. She had the watch that Lucius and Narcissa had given her when she moved in, complete with the family crest, and she cherished it, but a watch was not always appropriate attire for a lady. She wanted something a little more classically feminine and decorative; something that she could wear always, close to her heart. A locket would do nicely, she thought, and Narcissa evidently approved of the notion.

All that was left was to go order the thing.

Pansy had gotten ready early, still wary of offending or disappointing her adopted mother with tardiness or any sign of disrespect. It still lacked a quarter of an hour to the time they’d agreed to leave when she made her way into the parlour that the family used most often- it still seemed a luxury, having more than one parlour, one formal and one more intimate, and it sent a thrill through her to ensconce herself in the latter- and sat down on the couch to wait, feet tucked demurely underneath of her as she paged through a book. She’d informed the House Elves of where she’d be waiting when Narcissa was ready to go. Now she only had to wait.

Narcissa was just about ready when Dobby came to tell her that Mistress Pansy was waiting in the family parlour. The news made Narcissa smile--apparently Pansy was even more excited for today than Narcissa was--and hurry to finish her preparations. When she was done, she headed down to join her daughter.

Pansy looked lovely curled up on the couch with a book in her hands. She clearly belonged precisely where she was, and the little glow that Narcissa suspected was only partially due to her pregnancy confirmed it, as did her desire to have a locket with the Malfoy crest on it. Narcissa would have bought Pansy anything she wanted of course--or Pansy could have bought it for herself, as she had access to the Malfoy vaults at Gringotts now and could draw on Malfoy accounts at any business they frequented--but it was pleasing that the first thing she’d asked for was something of her new family. It was especially pleasing that she wanted Narcissa to go with her to order it.

“Ready, darling?” Narcissa asked once Pansy looked up from the book. “I thought perhaps we could go into London to get lunch after we order your locket… if you’re feeling up to it.”

At the sight of Narcissa, Pansy shut her book carefully so as not to bend the pages and set it aside. “I think I could manage lunch,” she agreed, smiling at the older woman, the expression not quite shy but close to it. “I’m feeling quite well today, actually.”

Perhaps that was anticipation, or perhaps the queasiness of the past weeks was beginning to pass. It was hard to say, and truly, at this moment, Pansy didn’t particularly care. She got to her feet and checked her appearance quickly in a nearby mirror. She’d taken pains to look well put together, even more-so than usual. She didn’t want to embarrass her mother in public with a single hair out of place.

“Good. There’s a lovely place I’d like to take you to.” Narcissa was quite certain Pansy’s birth father never took her any place, and she couldn’t imagine Maria Bulstrode frequenting this sort of restaurant. It was exquisite, and quite exclusive, but it was so exclusive that most people, even the right sort, didn’t know about it.

She held out her arm to Pansy. “Shall we?” It was easier to just side-along Pansy to the jewelers and the restaurant than try to explain where, precisely, Pansy should apparate.

The jeweler they went to was not one in Diagon Alley. It was lesser known place, deep within London, not as popular or well publicized as Charmed, but with far less risk of anyone seeing them go in or out. Ginnifer’s work was exquisite, of course, and Narcissa had already ordered a few pieces for Pansy from Charmed, but she had ideas for the necklace that none of their friends needed to know about, and that meant going elsewhere. Besides, now that rumors were circulating, she wasn’t sure if Pansy would be comfortable on full display in Diagon Alley. This was better all-around.

They appeared in the nook to designated for apparation, and Narcissa led the way into the shop. “If you see anything else you like, don’t hesitate to point it out, dear.” The pieces on display were a little less delicate than those offered by Ginnifer, but they were still beautiful.

Pansy followed Narcissa, trying not to look too overwhelmed by her surroundings. She’d been to shops of this sort before, of course. Her former family may not have been as well-off as the Malfoys, but neither were they poor, and her grandmother had not wanted her to appear like a pauper. She’d owned jewelry all of her life.

Rarely had she gotten to choose it herself, though. It had all been Grandmother’s taste, Grandmother’s specifications. For a long time- maybe too long- Pansy had trusted that. Had believed the woman when she said that the things Pansy herself liked were too daring, or not noticeable enough, or lacking taste. Recently, though, she’d come around to the notion that in this, like in so much else, Maria Bulstrode might be...old-fashioned.

And at any rate, having things of her own was a glorious prospect, an intoxicating temptation. Part of her wanted to ask for everything in the store. She’d never allow that part free-reign, of course, but it was hard to keep her gaze from drifting lovingly over several pieces, to keep herself from accepting Narcissa’s offer of whatever she liked.

“It’s all so beautiful,” she said instead, peering into one case and then another.

Narcissa took note of the pieces Pansy’s gaze was lingering on the longest and pointed out a few more that were similar. She wasn’t going to buy them all, of course, but it was good to know how Pansy’s tastes ran. “You should pick at least one, darling, so you have something to take with you today.” The locket they were ordering would take a few weeks, at least, to come in, and with everything else going on, she wanted to give Pansy something tangible today.

She pointed to a necklace very similar to the ones Pansy was admiring, a simple and understated piece that showed its value by not showing it off, but one with enough elegance that anyone who mattered would know its value. “What about something like this?”

The necklace in question was lovely, delicate and understated and very much to Pansy’s taste. She flushed a little, aware that for Narcissa to have picked it out she must have been more obvious in her own staring than she’d intended. “It’s lovely,” she agreed quietly, reaching out as if she might touch the thing, though of course her hand paused several inches from it. “But all I want is the locket, truly.”

“Let me buy you something to take with us today, darling. Please. I want to.” She took Pansy’s hand and squeezed it gently. “If you like something, you should have it. You aren’t going to upset us by asking for something, you know.”

The shop owner came out of the back then and greeted them warmly. Narcissa explained what it was she had in mind for the locket--the Malfoy crest, of course, but with charms added on that would not only protect Pansy, but would also act offensively in the event that she were attacked--pausing occasionally to let Pansy add her input.

Pansy didn't want to be greedy; Narcissa had already done so much for her.

Still, if she insisted. She inclined her head, smiling a little. "All right. Thank you."

She spoke when Narcissa paused, explaining her preferences; really, though, they more or less aligned with the older woman's opinions. Narcissa had exquisite taste.

Pleased with both Pansy's acquiescence and her input on the locker, Narcissa had the jeweler finalize the special order and add the necklace they had been admiring to it. When the transaction was complete, Narcissa tucked both the necklace and the paperwork for the locket into her robes and led Pansy back to the apparation alcove.

"Are you still feeling up to lunch?" They had been some time in the jewellery store, and Narcissa didn't want to assume. "There are some things I need to tell you, but we can talk back at the Manor if you aren't feeling up to staying out."

Pansy nodded, trying not to seem too eager. Narcissa had mentioned wanting to take her somewhere in particular, after all. “Lunch would be lovely,” she agreed with a smile. “Truly, I feel fine. Better than I have in weeks. I do believe some of the...early queasiness is passing.”

It was hard to think of a delicate way to put such a thing, but...well. Narcissa was her mother now, after all.

“Wonderful.” Narcissa had hoped Pansy would be feeling better by now, but it was so hard to tell with this sort of thing. Every woman reacted differently. “I’m glad to hear it. Shall we then?” She waited for Pansy to take her hand and apparated them to the restaurant.

It looked like a tiny place, with only its door showing on the street, not that they arrived via the door. Narcissa knew the location of their apparition nook, and took Pansy straight there, then stepped out into the small but opulent entryway where the maître d'hôtel greeted them and immediately led them to a table in the back, where they could see out the windows but were granted some privacy by the screens and plants arranged artfully around the room.

“Everything here is delicious,” Narcissa said when he left them to look over their menus. “But for lunch? This one is my favorite.” She pointed to a dish about midway down the menu.

It seemed that everything that Narcissa did, everywhere she went, was absurdly luxurious. Pansy was accustomed to a certain standard of living, of course, but it was nothing compared to the wealth of the Malfoys.

If she’d been a different sort of girl, she might have found it intimidating.

Looking over the menu, she found herself suddenly quite ravenous; or perhaps she’d just grown unaccustomed to being hungry of late, with the omnipresent early-pregnancy nausea that was finally abating. Still, when the waiter came, she asked for the dish Narcissa had indicated rather than everything on the menu like she almost wanted to.

“The things you need to tell me,” she ventured once they had privacy, “are they good things? Or less so?”

"It's... useful, perhaps," Narcissa said once she'd cast a privacy charm around the table. This restaurant was known for being discreet and at the moment there were no other diners Narcissa could see, but one could never be too careful. “I don’t know if you’ll see her or not, but Delilah Selwyn stayed at the Manor last night. She was… injured. And terrified. We offered her sanctuary.”

There was more to it than that, of course, but Narcissa wanted to build up Pansy’s sympathy for Delilah before she broke the news about who--about what--she was.

Pansy sat up straighter, expression darkening in response to the news. Who would dare harm Delilah Selwyn? Whoever they were, they needed to pay. “Who hurt her?” she asked quickly, leaning forward a bit. “Does she know? Was it one of those- those Order vigilantes?”

That would have been so much easier. “No.” Narcissa’s expression hardened as she thought about what they’d learned last night. “It was Hallam. It seems the Selwyns have been keeping secrets. Dangerous ones. Delilah is not the Selwyns daughter. She is a mudblood they adopted when she was six. Hallam has been abusing her for years for failing to be the pureblood daughter they have told everyone she is.”

That was...that was a truly incredible amount of information for seven sentences. It drew Pansy up short, and she stared at Narcissa, uncomprehending, for long moments.

If it had been anyone else saying these things, she’d have thought her companion was having her on.

“She’s what?” she managed finally, eyebrows high and voice soft. She’d known, of course, that Slytherin was not infallible: Entwhistle was proof of that. But the idea that she’d spent seven years sharing her bedroom with a mudblood...that she’d considered the girl a peer, a friend-

“Delilah told me last night, and I have no reason to think she’s lying.” There would be little point in telling that lie to Narcissa Malfoy. "She came to us because she was afraid Hallam was going to kill her. She thought we could keep her safe."

Delilah hadn't been wrong there, though Narcissa was uncertain how this would work long-term. "We agreed to protect her, at least until we figure out what to do about this. Lucius and I thought you should know, since she will be at the Manor." And because it was information Pansy might have a use for someday. It wouldn't do for Narcissa's daughter to be caught unawares. Knowing all the cards in play was part of being a Malfoy.

"She's a mudblood," Pansy repeated, incredulous, "and she came here for help? For protection?"

It seemed idiotic on Delilah ' s part, but as she considered, Pansy could see why the Malfoys would let her stay. After all, Hallam and Marcelia had to know what their daughter was. They were concealing it, conning the pureblood world.

This was leverage.

"Does Hallam know where she is?" She asked, calmer.

"Not yet. Lucius and I haven't decided what we're going to do with this information, but it seemed prudent to maintain the status quo until we do. We even"--and here Narcissa's lip curled up--"sent someone to make sure the Entwhistles weren't targeted." Narcissa took a sip of water to wash away the foul taste that came with thinking about what she'd done to protect them. This outing with Pansy had distracted Narcissa, but she still felt filthy just thinking about it.

"It would be much easier if she were simply a mudblood, of course." Or if she'd simply been abused, for that matter. Then it would be a matter of deciding whether to kill the Selwyns or turn them over to the DMLE for justice. "Hallam beating her...complicates things."

Pansy nodded thoughtfully. She didn't understand why they'd bothered with the Entwhistles, but clearly it was a delicate subject that was perhaps better unbroached.

"Hallam must be...confronted, surely," she said instead, primly. "This sort of deception can't go unremarked."

"It's more than just his deception, though." Narcissa looked thoughtfully at her daughter. Perhaps there was more to be haunted from this than they had originally thought. It was, it seemed, an ideal opportunity to teach Pansy a few lessons of the sort that would never be on Hogwarts curriculum.

"Do you understand why Hallam beating Delilah makes a difference? Why we protected the Entwhistles despite them being Muggles?" She put her hand over Pansy's in a comforting gesture. "It's all right if you don't. I'll explain anything you don't understand. It's an unusual situation." Pansy already grasped the politics of the Malfoys less-complicated maneuverings, but this was probably unlike anything she'd been exposed to before.

"Truthfully, I don't," Pansy admitted, glancing down briefly and then forcing herself to meet Narcissa's gaze again. "I understand why you took Delilah in, though I think it was a...remarkable risk on her part. But the Entwhistles? No, I don't understand that."

Narcissa nodded. She had suspected as much. "The Entwhistles are important to Delilah. If we choose to use her against Hallam and Marcelia, it will be much less complicated if she feels she owes us. And it is far easier to revoke protection when it is no longer prudent to offer it than it is to grant it after something irrevocable has been done. Protecting the Entwhistles isn't about keeping them safe." The Malfoys couldn't care less about that. "It's about making sure Delilah continues to trust us until we figure out how to use her."

Narcissa took another sip of her water. "What Hallam has done is beyond the pale. Not even Muggle children deserve to be treated that way by their parents--and Hallam and Marcelia became Delilah's parents when they adopted her despite her bloodline. This was their mistake, yet they punish Delilah for it. That is not something that can be tolerated."

"If Entwhistle is important to Delilah, it means she's been fraternizing with filth," Pansy pointed out, lip curling a little at the thought. She supposed that if this was a secret that the other girl had been harboring for a long time it made sense that she'd turn to a fellow mudblood for comfort, but the idea was still abhorrent to Pansy. "That is her mistake. The whole family has crossed a line, I think."

"Yes, but like will always find like, dear. And he is a much more appropriate companion for a mudblood than any true witch or wizard." With their lies, the Selwyns had stained everyone's reputation. "But if Hallam had handled the situation properly, Delilah would never have been given the opportunity to fraternize with the boy. His actions are the ones that must be dealt with."

Narcissa looked Pansy straight in the eyes. "What do you think we should do? Hallam must answer to his actions, of course, but I'm curious how you think we should handle him. Before you decide, you should know I had to ward Andromeda to keep the boy's family safe." Hallam would have to pay for that too, Narcissa would make sure of it.

Hallam was a man whom Pansy had always admired; to discover that he was the worst sort of liar and hypocrite was upsetting, and the thought of devising a fitting punishment daunting, to say the least. She was quiet for long moments, lost in thought.

"Whatever abuse he inflicted upon Delilah should be inflicted also upon him,"she decided finally, voice quiet. "After all, his rage at her should truly have been rage at himself. He ought to experience it."

Oh Pansy was perfect. Narcissa smiled broadly, her eyes glinting at the thought of doing to Hallam what he had done to Delilah. It was, perhaps, impractical, but it was such a delightful idea. "In an ideal world, yes. That would be appropriate. I fear there are practicalities that will prevent that, unfortunately, as it would be a very enjoyable way to deal with this mess."

Narcissa allowed herself a moment to imagine that, then focused back on Pansy. "Enough of that. We can't do anything year and it won't do to ruin our day dwelling on it." Her gaze softened as she looked Pansy over. "Is there anything you would like to discuss?"

Pansy was willing to let the subject drop; she shook her head, then hesitated. "Has the situation with Cambina been resolved?"

"No. I haven't heard from Cambina since she stormed out of the Manor." That was a slight exaggeration--Cambina had been acting too well-mannered to storm--but the idea remained. "I don't know if she will come around or not, but really, it doesn't matter much. If she wants to pull back, it's her plans that are ruined, not ours."

Narcissa's only concern there was Pansy's feelings about the Bulstrodes. "I hope the Bulstrodes come around for your sake, but I'm indifferent to whatever plan Cambina was trying to implement." She squeezed Pansy's hand. "How are you doing with their reaction? Have you spoken to your grandmother recently? I admit I had hoped she would see the benefit to this sooner. It was never our desire to cut you off from that part of your family." Though, admittedly, they didn't deserve Pansy. Not with the way they only cared about her being part of the Bulstrode family now that she was a Malfoy.

Her Grandmother’s reaction was no less and no more than Pansy had expected; she’d made her choices with open eyes, at least where Maria Bulstrode was concerned. If she was surprised, it was only that the older woman had brought the rest of the family into it: in the wake of her daughter’s defection to the side of filth and disappointment- and as far as Pansy could tell, because of it- Maria had mostly kept her affairs, and as a result Pansy’s, away from that side of the family. There had been contact, of course, but this was something else, especially if she was bringing Cambina underneath her wing.

She’d never liked that particular relative before now. Pansy couldn’t help but take her apparent affection for Cambina now as a personal affront.

“They can think what they like,” she said, as dismissively as she could. “It’s petty jealousy, if they can’t see why they ought to relish this connection rather than revile it. I know I’ve made the right choice and I refuse to be bothered if they refuse to see it that way.”

Narcissa doubted that was entirely true. Rejection--even from someone you convinced yourself not to care about--hurt. “You’re right, of course. The Bulstrodes could benefit greatly from an association with us. And of course, Lucius and I are very pleased with how things turned out. We have you. But it is all right to be upset about how they’re treating you while still being pleased to be our daughter now.”

She leaned in close. “You don’t have to hide what you’re feeling, Pansy. Not from your family.”

Pansy forced herself to hold Narcissa’s gaze; she had no doubt that the woman- her adoptive mother- meant what she was saying, but it was one thing to say it and another thing entirely to watch the person who’d done nothing but benefit from your regard scorn it with the wish that things might have been different.

She’d made her choice, and she was happy with it. Maria Bulstrode’s reaction didn’t matter; she wouldn’t let it, and if it did, she’d ignore that.

“I’m fine,” she said firmly, voice strong and untrembling. “If my grandmother cared about me as much as she always claimed, she’d be happy now. It all just proves that I’ve made the right decision.”

She believed that. She had to believe that.

Narcissa didn’t believe it, but she could tell that Pansy wasn’t ready to open up yet, so she let the matter drop. Someday--soon, Narcissa hoped--Pansy would feel comfortable enough with her new life to fully confide in her new mother. Until then, Narcissa would let her keep her secrets… and arrange to have tea with Maria Bulstrode.

“Of course you made the right decision,” she said confidently. “Lucius and I, we care about you. We love you. And that isn’t going to change. No matter what your cousin seems to think.” Narcissa’s opinion of Cambina Bulstrode had dropped significantly with her objection to Pansy’s adoption. Narcissa really didn’t care one way or the other what Cambina truly thought, but if she was going to use that opinion to hurt Pansy--even if Pansy wouldn’t admit it--then Narcissa had an issue with her. No one got to hurt Narcissa’s children.

“Well, she isn’t my cousin any more,” Pansy said dryly, rolling her eyes in an elaborate, and very teenage, show of uncaring. “Or that’s how she’s chosen to interpret it. So I shan’t bother with what she thinks, no matter how many sarcastic congratulatory presents she chooses to send.”

"Well, it is her loss." Narcissa truly didn't understand Cambina's motives for any of this. With her snit, she was ensuring that she would never get whatever she was after with this whole marriage plan. She was also ensuring that there was a rift between the Malfoys and the Bulstrodes rather than an alliance. "You will do well to ignore her and her sarcastic presents."

As obnoxious as it had been, though, Cambina's present had been on point about one thing though. They would need supplies, both for the baby later and for Pansy very soon. "We should get you some things, though. You'll need new clothes before too much longer. I was thinking perhaps we should take a short trip to Milan to get some made. What do you think?"

The offer cheered Pansy considerably, and she smiled, sitting up straighter in her seat. "That sounds wonderful. I've never been to Milan, but it's certainly on my list of places I'd love to see!"

“Then we’ll go." Narcissa smiled, pleased at the idea. Pansy would, of course, have the most stylish maternity robes available, no matter where they had to go to get them. "Does next weekend suit or do you have plans already? I don't want to interrupt anything you have scheduled."

Pansy thought for a moment, but no, there was nothing. Her plans with Gwen were more or less perpetual, and other than that nothing was pressing. “The weekend will be perfect,” she agreed. “Thank you. I can’t wait.”

"Then it's settled." Narcissa would have it arranged when they returned home. "Is there anything else you'd like to do while we're there?"

Their food arrived then, and Narcissa waited until they were alone again to continue. "Or while we're out today? We can do whatever you'd like."

"May we decide after we eat?"Pansy asked, waiting for Narcissa to start before reaching for her own lunch. "For the moment, I'm happy with this. It's been lovely. Thank you so much."

"Of course, dear. You needn't ask." Pansy's manners were impeccable, bit she was still too cautious about offending her new parents. Someday, they would have to talk about that too. For now, though, Narcissa just smiled reassuringly. They had plenty of time, after all.