Narcissa

Disclaimer: I wish that I could say these characters were mine, and then I could spill out the Severus secrets... but they're not, and Jo only knows what is going to happen to Severus, and Lucius.

Pinkwands: Thanks very much for that! But don't get used to it. This is the last chapter I have written, so from now on updates won't be this regular... sorry... as for Hermione putting her foot down... well...

Chapter Four

I did not see Lucius until the four o’clock tea. Estate business had kept him busy for the rest of the day. He strode down the lawn; he was holding a paper to read. Jasper following at his heels the way a dog would. As soon as Lucius sat down and Roberts commenced on pouring out the tea Jasper jumped on my lap.

“He seems to really like you Hermione,” Lucius observed with a slight chuckle.

I clucked a little at the animal and continued stroking behind his ears. Jasper purred. He then crawled up my bosom, as he did so before, and settled his body around my neck like a live wrap; I felt the vibrations of his silky purr run through my body. I loved Jasper when he did this. Despite the discomfort it did actually relax me more.

“Anything exciting darling?” I asked, as I cut a piece of cake and handed it to my husband. He took the plate out of my hand and then scrutinized the cake. “Do you want something else?” I asked, my skin must have paled for Lucius looked at me and smiled.

“No, no this is fine,” he said.

He set the cake down by his fine china teacup and saucer and he laid the paper on the table, between the sugar bowl and biscuit tray. He selected a scone practically made of raisons and started to butter it.

“So how is the estate?” I asked.

“Not crumbling yet dear,” he answered. “The Cornish seat will last for a few centuries yet.”

I smiled weakly and attended to my own less fruity scone. I picked out a spoonful of raspberry jam and two spoonfuls of cream.

“And what of your day sweetheart?” Lucius asked. I was about to answer but the words stopped in my throat as I realised how wonderful he looked against the sun, he looked as if he just stepped out of the core of the sun’s nerves.

“Oh, this and that,” I replied. “More this, than that, though.”

“Please, tell me the details, I’d like some frivolity.”

“Well, I wrote some letters this morning: Mrs Van Hopper, Ginny Potter, and Bellatrix, although Bellatrix must have sensed that I was writing to her, for as soon as I sent the letters off with Danvers, she popped her head in the fireplace.”

Lucius looked up at that.
“And what could she possibly have said this morning that she didn’t say already the night before?”

“Oh, more of this and that,” I said. “She gave me some advice.”

“Oh, what was that then?”

I blushed. He looked at me.

“What the dickens did the two of you talk about today?”

I coughed as I bit a little bit too much of my scone, after I had swallowed the bit of bakery I looked into Lucius’ eyes. They were narrowed, stormy, and very dangerous.

“Nothing much,” I said. The look made me quiver. “Lucius please don’t look at me like that. I felt a little inadequate in a certain part of this new life that is all; she was only trying to help. It was your idea.”

“In what ways do you feel inadequate?” he asked.

“I am not brought up to all this – this –,” I waved my hands about, “this finery. I am confused. Bellatrix said that I should use the same confidence I had on the battlefield and to show the servants that I am the Mistress now, and not Narcissa.”

Lucius chewed on a piece of chocolate cake thoughtfully.

“If I felt you would be inadequate I certainly would not have married you so damn quick.”

I bowed my head, his words stung. I wanted to say that perhaps he should have married someone – anyone – but me. I thought that Pansy, or Millicent might have done for him. I rose out of my chair and dropped to my knee’s. I took his hands in mine and placed my face between them. I looked up at him, and he down at me.

“I’m sorry Lucius,” I whispered meekly. “I am so dreadfully sorry. It’s just that, well, I can’t cope with all this. I love you. I am prepared to try for you. But please I am just a…” I gulped. “A Mudblood.” I whispered.

At the last word I felt him shiver with anger, I looked up and his pale complexion went to an even shade of white. His eyes flashed fire, and he immediately got up and took my hands in his.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said as coolly as he could. I got up and he took my hand. “I’m going to have to try and sort you out!”

I was shaking, too. I felt that if Lucius were not holding my hand then I would have sunk on the floor. I certainly felt limp.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked quietly.

He dragged me along and eventually we came to this pathway. Serried white rose bushes flanked either side, and in this warm, heavy, spring evening the perfumes excited the senses. He dragged me down until we were halfway down the pathway. He suddenly stopped; he turned, and then put his hands on my arms, making me look in his grey eyes.

“I don’t know what is going on inside that fuzzled brain of yours Hermione, but you are not inadequate, the last time I truly meant THAT word was before you were even born, and if ANYONE in this Mansion or out speaks one word against you, then I will make sure they meet their maker sooner than they think!

Also, Hermione, you are a reflection of me. I took that into consideration during that night when we met, you reflect me, as I most surely reflect you! Whatever you do I will know of it, and the same vice-versa. You are me, as I am you. If anyone thinks of you like that, or despises you, then they are despising me also.”

I burst into tears. I covered my face in my hands, trying to hide my shame. Lucius relented and smothered me in his arms.

“But I am not Narcissa,” I managed through my sobs.

“Thank Circe for that,” I heard him murmur.

“Why?” I asked.

He sighed and kissed the top of my head.

“Listen there is something about Narcissa that you need to know right now,” Lucius said. “She weren’t…”

But I heard someone call his name; it was the voice of Severus Snape. He came sprinting down the lawn, and came here. He looked slightly disconcerted at being here.

“Lucius,” Severus said. “I have just received some news. I thought you might like to hear it.”

“Tell me then,” Lucius said. He kept his arm draped protectively around my waist. Severus gave me a pointed look. Lucius looked at me too, I was confused. What did that look mean?

“May I take him from you, Mrs Malfoy, this shan’t take long.”

I nodded as they walked off. They wondered not too far from me but far enough so that I could not hear what they were saying.

I noticed Lucius began shaking again, this time out of fear, and not out of anger. What could Lucius be afraid of? He looked at me again and I began worrying my lip. I felt dumb standing there. I was in the way. Eventually, when they had finished, I felt Lucius back at my side. He took hold of my hand.

“Shall we go to the beach?” He asked. His tone light, but his voice belied any feelings that were related. He started to walk and I followed him. We carried on down this path, and I was feeling happier, and happier with each passing yard.

The sound rushed to my ears and almost deafened me after the quietude of the rose path and I was knocked by the contrast. Instead of grass and mud beneath my feet I felt the heavy sands. I saw the waves crash and swirl against the jagged, harsh rocks. I saw each wave tipped with white foam. Lucius looked at the sea, his mood had darkened even further now, than when he was in the rose path. He just stood there; he was looking at nothing in particular, his face unreadable, and emotionless. His lips were thinned and he was stiff, as if he had been Petrified on the spot by an importune Basilisk.

I managed to work my hand out of his and went to the sea; I picked up some pebbles and skimmed them on the water. I was about to walk a little further along the shore but my attention looked upon the frame of a man that I thought I’d never see again. Neville Longbottom. What was he doing here?

Neville turned and walked up to me. I thought to run to him and give him a big hug but I held back when I realised he weren’t that excited to see me. He was wearing some rough robes and a silly floppy hat. With each step I saw why he didn’t run to me. His eyes were vacant. There was madness behind his eyes. Tears welled up in my eyes, I had not realised the toll the war took on people. I had hidden for so long, too long.

“She don’t come no more,” he said. “She don’t come no more. I can come here but she don’t!”

“Neville,” I began slowly, “Neville it is me, Hermione, you must remember me.”

“Aye,” he began but his eyes drifted over to a spot just a little on our left. I turned to follow his gaze. I saw a rather ramshackle cottage. “She don’t go there no more, not anymore. But I can! I can go whenever I want but she can’t. IT got her!”

“Neville?” I whispered. He turned his head toward me. His eyes narrowed, as if he were examining me. “Neville, you must remember me?”

“You’re nicer than her! You won’t send me to the asylum will you?”

“Of course not Neville,” I said. I took his hand. I felt a shadow fall across our bodies.

“Thank you,” Lucius said.

“I said nothing wrong!” Neville’s eyes widened in fear his mouth dripping with saliva.

“I am sure you didn’t,” Lucius said. “Be on your way now Neville.”

“I’m not going to the asylum?” he asked.

“No,” Lucius sighed.

Neville took his dishevelled robes in his hands and ran off before anyone could change their minds.

I turned and buried my head in Lucius’ chest. I willed the tears to stay inside. I didn’t want to cry.

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“He was cursed one too many times, unfortunately it was considered not to be top priority for St Mungo’s. I felt partially responsible for what had happened to him so I took him under my care. I lied the other night. The remainder of the food goes straight to Neville.”

I looked up and my heart swelled with pride for my husband. I tenderly stroked his face and I saw the light return to his eyes, as he caressed my hand with his, and he leant down and kissed me on the nose. I kissed him on his lips. He bought me further into his embrace and deepened the kiss, the waves lapping at our ankles and the wind making our robes and hair fly.

*^*^*^*

I was curious as to what Severus and Lucius were talking about, but I did not get my answer, as I did not ask any questions about it. Instead I had a lot of people that expected me to visit them, I trembled as I considered this. What do I say to people who at one time wanted me dead? Having the Lestrange’s around weekly was an odd enough ceremony, but then Bellatrix started harping on at me to visit some more of her friends. I was all of a sudden taken with a desire to run away like I did before.

There was also Neville’s sad fate that now sat on my shoulders. How could I have been so selfish with worrying about meeting a few people when Neville Longbottom had not ever had the chance at a normal, happy life? I was sat in the Morning Room waiting for Ginny to arrive; at least she was my last link to my past normal existence. I could speak freely to her. She possibly knew more about the madness of Neville Longbottom than anyone else.

She stepped through the fireplace calmly, and swept off some bits of dust and debris. She looked a little rounder than previously. She was obviously pregnant.
“Sorry for that,” Ginny said, as she cleaned the carpet from the soot clinging to it.

“That is all right, Ginny,” I said.

Ginny selected the single chair facing the window and I sat on the one opposite.

“I can see congratulations are in order,” I said, as I nodded down to her belly.

She blushed.

“I only found out myself the day you arrived,” she said. “Four months and I hadn’t even realised.” She gasped. Her eyes went wide and I turned around craning my neck to see if something had frightened her.

“Are you well?” I asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, no, Hermione, I just thought that my not realising I was carrying Harry’s baby might make me a terrible mother.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ginny, you’ll make a lovely mother.”

“You think?” she asked. A little light of hope dawned in her eyes.

“Ginny,” I began hesitantly. “Lucius and I went walking along the beach the other day and I met Neville.”

Ginny’s expression immediately drooped.

“Poor Neville,” she murmured. “If I’d have known this would be his life after Hogwarts I might have been more willing to go out with him.”

“Nobody respects pity, Ginny,” I cautioned. “We all love Neville, no matter what.”

Ginny nodded. Eventually a tray with tea and biscuits appeared on the table between Ginny and I, and I played the hostess in pouring out the tea and the biscuits.

“So,” Ginny asked, as she crunched into a biscuit, spraying crumbs down on her top, “this house elf you mention. You say she’s like Kreacher?”

“Possibly worse than Kreacher,” I answered. “I haven’t found her sobbing on her late Mistresses underwear yet.”

Then, as if by talking about her summoned her, Danvers herself appeared. Ginny looked at her and then at me.
“I trust everything is well?” Danvers asked in that sibilant voice of hers.

“Perfectly well, thank you, Danvers,” I said.

Danvers looked at me and then she turned towards Ginny. Danvers appraised Ginny with a sly, analytical smile. Ginny did not like the look.

“And whom is Mrs H Malfoy’s friend?” she emphasized the H deliberately. Her tone suggested how she felt about me.

“Mrs Ginevra Potter,” I answered. Danvers raised one of her eyebrows sceptically.

“If there is nothing I can do for you I will attend to my other duties,” she said coldly.

As soon as Danvers left, Ginny let out a breath of relief. She looked at me and sat back in the chair.

“I see what you mean Mia,” she said.

“You haven’t called me that for ages,” I said.

“Well it’s so much easier to say than Hermione, and I know how much you hate ‘Mione. So I guess Mia is safe territory.”

I laughed with my friend.

“So,” I sighed. “What is Harry up to at the moment?”

Ginny nibbled a little on her lower lip and then her eyes narrowed.

“Have you been asleep when you looking after that daft old whore?” Ginny asked. “Harry’s searching for somebody. Somebody we’d all thought was – dead,” she hesitated before she said that word. I furrowed my brow. “Look, I promised Harry not to tell a living soul.”

“Not even me,” I said.

“Hermione, a lot of weird things have happened since you were last here. Besides it’s safer for you not to know.”

“What could be dangerous to me?” I asked. “I married a former Death Eater for crying out loud, Ginny, doesn’t that show I am a risk-taker.”

“The key-word there is former, Hermione, he is a former Death Eater. Besides he saved your life on the battlefield. No one knows why, unless he has decided to enlighten you with the details of his mind process at the time?” I shook my head. “Mia, the thing is, there are things best left for dead, literally!”

Ginny was about to go when Bellatrix popped in for one of her surprise visits, bringing along a female friend whom I had never seen before.

“This is Jocasta Crabbe,” Bellatrix introduced me. “My friend. She was keen to meet you.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Jocasta.

“Hello,” Jocasta said as she took my hand. Like I said before dear reader, the war had more twists and turns than the Corkscrew ride at Alton Towers, and this was yet another one of them.

I got up and took her hand, curtseyed and then Bellatrix put me in a fierce hug.

“To what do I owe this honour?” I asked.

“Oh, you know Hermione,” Bellatrix said. “Many things. But Jocasta had a question she wanted to ask you.”

I surveyed Jocasta Crabbe; she was strong looking woman, with arms and hands befitting that of an Olympic champion. Her eyes were pig-like and her smile was thin and perfunctory. I could see where Vincent got his looks from, she was every bit like her beefy son. She turned toward Ginny with a look of surprise, which then turned into disdain. Bellatrix looked at Ginny too, but with a touch more respect.

“Of course, she may ask any question she likes,” I said.

Jocasta sat down on the other single chair that was placed nearest the fire, whilst Bella and I sat down on the sofa. Jocasta looked at me eagerly.

“You’re not normally his type,” she said. “Lucius tends to like blondes more than brunettes, he was even known to have gone for the odd redhead.” She peered round and looked at Ginny.

“Obviously he’s changed his tastes as he’s gotten older,” I replied tersely. I didn’t like Jocasta Crabbe very much. She was much too abrupt for my liking.

“Time waits for no man,” she said. Indicating that were he younger, I would be the last woman he would have chosen.

“I thought you wanted to ask me a question,” I said.

“Oh,” Jocasta blushed. Bellatrix watched the inter-change between us with avid interest. “Well, you know that whenever Lucius and Narcissa were here they held a ball. Unfortunately, since Cissy’s death, we haven’t had one. Do you have plans to re-establish this tradition?”

I was unaware of any annual ball, but then Lucius doesn’t tell me anything about what goes on here. Most of the time it’s guesswork, but I am getting there.

“I – I am not sure,” I faltered. “I will talk with Lucius about it though and see what he say’s.”

“Oh, but you must dear it’s a cherished event. You should see this place festooned in decorations. It’s beautiful.”

“And you just simply love dressing up don’t you Joccy?” Bellatrix asked. I looked at the women with a slight frown on my face.

“It’s fancy dress,” Ginny explained.

“How would you know?” Mrs Crabbe turned to Ginny.

“Social Events section in the Daily Prophet,” Ginny replied promptly.

That shut the old trout up.

“Like I said,” I began. “I’ll ask Lucius about it and see what he say’s.”

*^*^*^*

I suppose a ball would not have been a bad idea. Besides it’ll give the people something to think about other than what a bad choice Lucius made in marrying me. I could not have stood that Jocasta Crabbe anymore than I had to. Everytime she spoke to me I could taste the disapproval. In one sentence she saw fit to even disapprove Lucius of his choice. Damn it! That was his choice to make, not some over-fat ex-Quidditch stars! I doubt Lucius likes her at all, even in the bad days.

We were at dinner and Lucius was looking at me as I was fuming to myself about what that woman implied.

“Are you all right? I thought Mrs Potter might have made you feel more at ease.”

I turned and looked at Lucius.

“Ginny was fine,” I replied. “But Bellatrix saw fit to introduce me to Jocasta Crabbe!”

“Oh dear,” Lucius said. A slight frown etched his forehead. “And what did the old trout have to say for herself?”

“She said,” I began. I looked down on my lap and my fingers were twirling in my lap. “She said that I am not usually your type, that you prefer blondes, and redheads.”
“Hmm,” Lucius said, as he was musing at a lock of my hair. “Well, that goes to show how well she knows me. I like brunettes.”

I blushed.

“She also said that there is a fancy dress ball held annually I was wondering if we could hold one. It does sound like fun.”

Lucius clattered his knife on the plate and there was a spot or two of red showing on his face.

“I’ll think about that one,” he said.

I wondered why he had such a violent reaction to something that was simply an innocent diversion. Perhaps, I thought, I could ask Severus about it.


A/N Okay now pretty please review... please? And don't worry, this will make sense soon...