Lucius.
Narcissa was no stranger to the Dark Arts.
Not only had she been sorted into Slytherin in her first year at Hogwarts, but she was also part of the noble House of Black — and while the Dark Lord had probably taken all her childhood and teenage years to raise, her relatives were keen to more obscure ways of magic than traditional families. But being acquainted with the Dark Arts didn’t mean she wanted to be a part of them.
Narcissa Black had married Lucius Malfoy as soon as she came of age, after finishing her seventh and last year of education at Hogwarts. Lucius had been courting her for quite a few years already, and Cygnus and Druella had approved of the boy, given he came from a family part of The Sacred Twenty-Eight. She loved him, she truly did, but this was slowly becoming too much.
“I don’t think you should do it, Lucius.” She finally declared out loud, as Lucius wrapped his cloak around himself.
It took a second for Lucius to actually realise that it was his wife’s voice he was hearing, and his eyes lifted to meet hers — her cheeks were slightly sunburned still, from the honeymoon they had returned from not that long ago.
“We need to be positioned in the right side of History, my love.” Lucius reminded her with a slight nod of his head, finally fastening his cloak.
Narcissa barely noticed how she fidgeted with her fingers, spinning her wedding band with ease as she looked at him. She still hadn’t gotten used to the Malfoy Manor — not like she had lived in a hut, but the place was ridiculously big for just the two of them. Well, and Lucius’ parents.
“But getting the Dark Mark?” Narcissa insisted, following behind him as he walked closer to the fireplace, where the Floo powder rested in a century old crock. “It’s… a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Bellatrix’s got it.” Lucius said, a bit too quickly.
Narcissa had learned how to control her face early in her childhood, so the wince that came with the mention of her sister barely showed as a shadow across her countenance. It was no surprise, how almost gleefully Bellatrix had accepted the Dark Mark a couple of months ago — after all, she used to curse the keepsake box she, Narcissa and Andromeda kept with Dark Magic so no one could even think of prying.
When Lucius’ hand lifted to grab a handful of the Floo powder, Narcissa’s own shot up and grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him. She smiled, the lift of her lip corners barely there, “Since when has my sister been an example to follow?”
It was inevitable that Lucius frowned back at her, glancing at her pale hand wrapped around his wrist. If he didn’t know her any better, he’d say Narcissa was scared.
“If you were smart, you would get it too.” Lucius’ voice turned slightly softer, as his hand slipped out of hers only to gently hold it, bringing it to his lips to kiss it lightly. “The Dark Lord would be pleased to welcome a witch as skilled as you.”
The soft smile that had slipped into her lips upon Lucius’ kiss trembled at the prospect, but she didn’t move back — in fact, she didn’t move at all, not a single inch.
“We could even get you marked today, with me.” Lucius continued, voice silky and enticing, and his other hand lifted to caress her cheek. When she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, Lucius’ heart almost leapt out of his chest — Merlin, she was so beautiful and he was married to her. “Think about it, Cissy.”
Narcissa’s eyes fluttered open, locking with his silver ones. It was a possibility, Narcissa realized, Lucius was serious about this thing — and so had been the whole lot of her relatives, on joining this Dark Lord that had risen out of nowhere. Wanted it or not, she was already inside. So why not? The Dark Mark couldn’t be too painful, it was just a pain to look at, with its black engraved design tainting her porcelain skin. But how could she say no to him, when he spoke like that?
“I’m just not sure.” Narcissa murmured, and while Lucius’ hand fell from her cheek, she didn’t feel less loved by him. Not with the way he was looking at her. “But I promise you, I’ll think about it.”
That seemed to please him, as Lucius gave her the smallest of smiles then. He kissed the palm of her hand again, before turning around and grabbing a fistful of the Floo powder. Narcissa mimicked his movements, fixing her cloak before stepping back from the fireplace as Lucius moved forward.
“Rosier Chateau.” Lucius declared loudly, winking at her before throwing the powder to the ground.
The green flames covered his body entirely, and when Narcissa blinked, Lucius was gone. Her eyes examined the place quickly now that she was alone, nose scrunching up softly when she caught her reflection in a mirror. The platinum colour was starting to fade from her naturally dark head of hair — she would have to charm it later tonight.
Stepping inside the fireplace, she repeated the same destination as her husband, and Narcissa appeared seconds after in the Rosier Chateau’s fireplace without a single hair moving out of her neat updo. Lucius was already talking to the Dark Lord when she stepped out of the fireplace, a couple more men meant to be marked around them.
Narcissa spotted Bellatrix in a corner of the Rosiers’ living room, a glass of champagne in her hand. She was already moving to her, when she heard Him call her name, “Narcissa.”
She tried her hardest not to let her body look as stiff as it suddenly felt, while turning around to meet the Dark Lord’s eyes — he was a handsome man, pitch black hair and angled, sharp features; but there was something eerie about him. Not in the way there was something eerie about Bellatrix, it was his skin. It had a shimmer, like it was textured as a snake’s. Maybe it was just her imagination, though.
“My Lord.” Narcissa bowed her head gently, eyes fleeting to Lucius’ for a second.
“Your husband has made the right decision tonight.” The Dark Lord almost smiled — but Narcissa was sure he physically couldn’t. She had never seen him do so, the closest thing was a wicked lift of his lip corners that always made all her hairs stand on end.
Narcissa kept her hands at her front, careful not to fidget. “He certainly has.”
Content with this interaction, the Dark Lord turned around from Narcissa and she was free to join her older sister at the corner of the room.
“When’s your turn, Cissy?” Bellatrix snickered wickedly into her ear, leaning her hip against the wall.
But Narcissa simply gave her the Black’s signature look — she may have traded her surname for her husband’s, but she still had that cold, sushing glare in her icy blue eyes.
“Lestrange, come forward.” The Dark Lord called with a firm voice.
Bellatrix almost jumped towards the men, eyes glimmering upon hearing her last name being called. But the brightness in them dulled out when she saw her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, coming to stand by Lucius’ side. Of course, the Dark Lord was claiming his presence to brand Lucius with the mark, and not hers.
“You don’t have to look if you don’t want to.” Bellatrix murmured into Narcissa’s ear, with bland drawl to her voice.
But Narcissa kept her eyes focused on Lucius, even when his face started scrunching up in pain upon pressing his finger against Rodolphus’ Dark Mark. Bellatrix had told her all about the process after she had gotten hers, how it burned the skin terribly as the skull and snake drew themselves into her forearm. And this time, Narcissa did wince slightly when Lucius let out a sharp cry of pain as his hand moved away from the Dark Mark, his eyes falling down to see the mark now in his skin.
But of course, she was quick to wipe that expression off her face right before Lucius’ gaze stumbled into hers — when he gave her a reassuring smile, or tried to, Narcissa smiled back. She just hoped it looked more convincing than his.