Sacred

The nightmares had returned.

She recognized the signs, even if she didn’t recall the actual dreams.

Her blonde hair clung to her forehead. A thin sheen of sweat coated her entire body, pasting the silk nightgown she wore to her skin. The sheets had been torn asunder, wrapped and rewrapped around her legs and blankets flung to the side as she’d tossed and turned. Mother would’ve had an absolute fit if she could see the state of the bed. Ladies don’t toss about, she’d said, before spelling the blankets to stay tucked around her daughter, suffocatingly tight.

She pressed a hand against her chest as she tried to slow her breathing, steady her heartbeat.

She was safe.

She was safe.

She was safe.

She repeated the words softly, mouthing the syllables with silent exhales as she steadied her breathing.

She was safe.

She was safe.

She was safe.

Narcissa untangled herself from the blankets and swung her legs off the edge of the bed, folding herself until her head rested on her knees, nearly toppling her onto the floor.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The pounding in her chest subsided, settling into a rhythm of normalcy. The phantom touches that had grazed her thighs disappeared.

She was safe.

She sat up and opened her eyes, her gaze drifting to the other girls still sleeping.

Good. She hadn’t woken them.

She sighed.

There would be no sleep for her tonight, she knew that. She stood up slowly on wobbling legs and padded towards the door, creeping out with expert silence. Not that any of them would question where she was going.

Narcissa crept down the hallway until she reached the common room. It was dark, except for the flickering light from the fireplace that seemed to be perpetually lit. She walked towards the fireplace, her feet numb with cold when suddenly she froze.

A figure stood by fireplace, illuminated by the flickering flames.

Regulus.

He stared at her, his large brown eyes wide and unblinking, an expression of shock on his usually vacant face. A glass of water was clutched in his left hand.

Narcissa blinked.

And the shock, the flicker of emotion that had been on his face seconds before disappeared behind the mask of cool indifference. He set the glass down on the small table with a soft thunk and breezed by her towards the common room door.

“Regulus –“ She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing the silk of his pajamas gently as he passed, but he did not stop. He did not respond. He did not even give her a passing glance.

The door slammed shut as he disappeared beyond it.

Sadness clouded her vision as she stared down at the closed door, nightmares momentarily forgotten. They had been close once, closer than she was with anyone aside from her sisters. They were two sides of the same coin in many ways, both the youngest of their families, overshadowed by older siblings with largely problematic personalities. They found solace in one another as they both tried to weather the storms that were Bellatrix and Sirius.

 At first they relished in just each other’s company.

There didn’t need to be conversation between them. Silence was a solace that so often eluded them in the Noble House of Black. They would sit in silence in the parlor listening to Bellatrix and Cygnus argue, listening to Sirius and Walburga fight, listening to the sounds of torture, to the sounds of defiance, to the sounds of demands and broken promises. On the particularly bad days, his hand would creep infinitesimally towards hers until their fingers were interlaced, clinging to one another like they were the only things keeping them grounded.

It continued like that, silent support until one day Walburga discovered that Regulus had been healing Sirius’s wounds. She was on a warpath, determined to find him out and teach him the meaning of obedience that he so desperately needed. Narcissa had felt terror coursing through her as she watched her wild-eyed aunt charge through the house, flinging open doors and screaming for the boy. She prayed to whatever god existed, if there even was a god, that Regulus stay hidden. Maybe forever.

He didn’t.

Narcissa had watched in horror, sat on the small couch between her sisters and Sirius as Walburga tortured him over and over. She broke his fingers. Cast burning hexes down his arms and legs. Flayed his back until the blood ran so freely that it soaked the bottom of Narcissa’s shoes. And when she had taken her pound of flesh, when she had extracted every bit of physical punishment he could handle, she used the Cruciatus curse.

Blood spurted from the wounds on his back as his body contracted and convulsed with unimaginable agony. His mouth opened unnaturally wide, a scream tearing from his throat that was so inhuman Narcissa would have never believed it came from him if she wasn’t seeing it.  

Eventually though, it stopped.

The screaming gave way to labored panting, to gasps for air that sounded wet, as though he were drowning. The four of them sat in silence as Walburga stared down at her son. Blood bubbled around his lips, dribbled down his face, flowed freely from the shredded flesh of his back. Nobody moved. Nobody dared to breathe. Narcissa waited, silently imploring her aunt to heal him, to at least give him the ability to move to his bedroom.

She didn’t.

“No one is to help him.” She commanded in a low voice. She dropped his wand on the floor, a couple of feet away from him in a puddle of slowly congealing blood. “He can heal himself, seeing as he’s so adept at it.”

Andromeda had fled the room the moment Walburga left, Bellatrix following shortly after. Only Narcissa and Sirius remained. Narcissa sat frozen on the couch, unwilling, and maybe unable to move. Sirius stood up, his feet squelching in the blood on the floor as he crouched down.

“Idiot,” He whispered in a broken voice. “I told you to just.. I told you.” His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stood up. Narcissa watched with growing horror as he turned away from his brother. As he walked away.

“Sirius,” Her own voice was labored, broken. “Sirius you can’t leave him like this.” Narcissa rarely spoke to Sirius. He was dangerous, volatile and explosive. “You have to help him.” Sirius looked at her and she flinched, wondering if she would find herself cast to the ground opposite Regulus.

But there was nothing but pain in his expression.

“Cissy,” He whispered, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. “She loves him. Mother, she.. she loves him. She loves him, and this what she’s done to him. I will not be afforded the same mercy she showed today.” He turned away again, wrapping his arms around himself and walked towards the door.

“Sirius,” She hated the way her voice cracked, hated the pleading tone she’d taken. Blacks don’t beg, but for Regulus..

Sirius paused.

She saw his shoulders sag, saw the resignation in the musculature of his back as he bent down and plucked the wand out of the blood with his thumb and forefinger. He didn’t hesitate as he placed his in Regulus’s outstretched palm, intertwining it in the gnarled broken fingers.

He didn’t look at Narcissa when he left.

Tears clouded her vision.

Part of her wanted to run after Regulus, to grab him and demand that he speak to her. She wanted to hug him, to hold him, to remind him that she was there for him.

But she knew better.

Instead, she grabbed the emerald green chair that had become hers over the years and dragged it to the wall beside the window and watched as the water lapped gently against the glass.

When she was eleven and missing the comfort of her own bedroom, the slow, gentle motion of the Black Lake outside of the windows had soothed her night after night. It became a regular occurrence to see Narcissa curled up in the overly plush emerald green chair that had been pushed against the wall, covered in a knit blanket. Eventually, Hogwarts had become more like a home than the halls of her own home, and she no longer needed to comfort of the window to soothe her to sleep.

But there were still times when sleep eluded her, when the nightmares that had plagued her as a child came roaring back, and she found herself dragging the emerald green chair back to the window and curling up to watch the waves.

She tapped her own head with her wand and let the creeping chill of the disillusionment charm wash over her. It wasn’t a particularly strong charm, but it would prevent anyone who wasn’t looking from finding her. It would never hide her from Bellatrix, not even if it was strong. Bella would always find her. But from the rest of the prying eyes of Slytherin house? Narcissa was confident.

It was all irrelevant anyway. No one would be coming down to the common room this late at night anyway, and even if they did no one would dare mock her for the nightmares or the insomnia. Their secrets had all been laid bare, thanks to the Ministry, the things they had all silently vowed to never speak of now suddenly had become public knowledge.

But still they didn’t speak of it.

She felt sometimes as though she would explode from the weight of it, from the secrecy that she was burdened with. There were times she sat surrounded by her peers, listening to the inane drivel that poured from her mouths and she could barely restrain herself from standing up and screaming at them, at admitting the things that had been done to her and the things that she’d seen, from breaking the vow that all pureblood children were born into. She wanted to scream at them to admit it, to flay them open so that they may heal. So that she may heal.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she dragged the chair to her favorite window and buried herself under disillusioning charms until she could drift off into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

“Revelio,” The word was so quiet, so hushed that Narcissa almost didn’t hear it.

Almost.

But the effect was instantaneous. The charm sloughed off of her before she’d had a chance to react. Narcissa clutched the blanket around her tighter, as though that would shield her from whoever had revealed her.

“Narcissa?”

“Lucius?”

Lucius Malfoy stood at the bottom of the staircase, wand elevated. He was wearing a simple white t shirt with a pair of thick pajama pants with what looked like..

“Are you wearing hippogriff pajamas?” She asked incredulously. Lucius flushed a brilliant red.

“They were a gift from Frank,” He mumbled. Narcissa pressed a fist to her mouth, barely stifling her laughter.

“I like them,” She said after a moment. “Very befitting for the future Lord Malfoy.” Lucius scowled at her, but she could see the smallest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

“They’re a far cry comfier than the silk monogrammed number my parents insist on purchasing. When I become Lord Malfoy, those will be the first to go.”

“Nothing but flannels and fleecies then?” Lucius smiled.

“Nothing but flannels and fleecies.” He agreed. “What are you doing down here? I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Narcissa’s smile faltered.

“Just watching the water,” She said softly. Lucius inclined his head slightly towards the other chair and Narcissa nodded. He flicked his wand, summoning it opposite hers and sat down.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Narcissa shook her head. “Yeah, me either.” She didn’t respond. He stared out the window, watching the waves rock against the glass. A grindylow floated by, giving Narcissa a small wave as it did. “Did that thing just wave at you?” Narcissa wiggled her fingers at the small creature as it bobbed out of sight.

“He did,” She could feel Lucius’s gaze on her as another creature floated by, fanning its tentacles out in greeting. She bit back her grin as she waved at that one as well. Lucius watched in silence as a slow parade of sea creatures made their way to her window, each one giving her a small greeting that she returned.

“They like you.” It was a statement, not a question, and Narcissa couldn’t argue it. The creatures had been there since her first year. They’d witnessed her crying, witnessed her writhing in her sleep, witnessed her staring blankly at the window, devoid of any emotion until eventually she’d confessed everything to them. She wasn’t sure they could hear her, and if they could she wasn’t sure they could even understand. But they stayed outside the window as though they could, bobbing gently with the movement of the water until she stopped talking, until her breathing settled, until her eyes closed and she’d drifted into dreamless slumber.

“They’re my friends,” She heard herself whisper. “They’ve been here with me since my first year.”

“You must sit out here a lot.” Narcissa nodded.

“My first year was hard,” She said. “I missed my home, my sisters were older and already had their friends. I felt very alone here, in this big castle. When I couldn’t sleep I would sit down here by the window and watch the water. Eventually they came, and they’d stay with me until I slept. They were my only friends when.. when I had no one else.”

“I understand,”

Another creature floated by. Narcissa waved again.

“It’s lonely sometimes,” He continued. “There are a lot of expectations. Uphold the family name and all that, make the right friends, make the right connections,” He waved a hand.

“You don’t want all that?” Lucius laughed.

“Of course I want it,” He sighed. “I love my family. I want to make them proud, I want to carry on the legacy that they’re leaving for me. I want.. I want to be worthy of them. That doesn’t mean it’s not lonely though.” Narcissa watched as another creature floated by, winding a piece of seaweed around its body in an enticing twirl. She gave it a beaming grin, chuckling lightly at the preening smile it flashed at her. She loved these creatures, truly.

“Do you want it?” She looked at Lucius. “This life. The one your parents have planned for you?” Narcissa turned away from him, her eyes fixing on the window once more.

“Of course I do,” She echoed hollowly.  

“You know we’re betrothed,” He said suddenly. Narcissa felt panic twist her gut.

“You’re betrothed to a Black,” She corrected. Lucius shook his head.

“Before.. before everything, I heard Father speaking with Cygnus. It was to be you.” Narcissa closed her eyes.

“I see,” She managed finally.

“You don’t want that.” Narcissa shook her head.

 “No!” She said vehemently. “That’s not.. that’s not it at all. I am very happy to be marrying you, Lucius Malfoy. You are an excellent match, from an excellent family and I am sure we will create exemplary heirs.”

“Narcissa,”

“I am happy, Lucius.”

“Narcissa, it’s quite alright to not be happy –“

“I said I am happy, Lucius.”

“You don’t have to –“

“I said it’s fine!” The words exploded out of her, far too loud against the silence of the common room. Narcissa glanced at the stairwells leading to the dormitories and prayed she hadn’t woken anyone with her outburst, before turning back to the boy in the chair, praying she hadn’t angered him.

Lucius stared at her with wide eyes.

“I am sorry, Lucius,” She whispered. “Please forgive me for my temper.” He gave her a small smile.

“It’s quite alright, Narcissa. I would expect nothing less from a Black. Your temperaments are quite famous, after all.” Narcissa smiled weakly.

“I am not usually prone to such outbursts,” She said, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve been told I am the most docile of the Black sisters.” She folded her hands on her lap. “I can assure you that won’t be happening again, you needn’t worry.” Lucius studied her for a moment, his own hands twisting in his lap.

“It can happen again,” He said softly after a moment. “If you wanted it to.”

Narcissa blinked.

“I just..” Lucius scratched his head, rumpling the disheveled waves of his hair even more. “We’re to be married. I would hope that you could be comfortable enough with me that you can be yourself. I don’t want you to worry about angering me, you know?”

“It’s not my place to question you,” Narcissa echoed her mother’s words as though she were held at wandpoint.

“You’re going to be my wife. If there is anyone whose place it is to question me, it is yours,” He said emphatically. “I want you to question me, Narcissa. I want you to be angry if you’re angry, to be happy if you’re happy. I don’t want you to hide yourself from me.”

This wasn’t marriage, not as Narcissa knew it.

She was to be silent, to be demure, to be agreeable and docile. She was to host parties, to decorate the home, to produce heirs and to turn a blind eye when her husband stumbled home with another witch’s perfume on his clothes.

She wasn’t meant to be.. this.

“You don’t believe me.”

“It’s not.. what I was taught.” She said slowly. Lucius sighed.

“Can you keep a secret?” He asked. Narcissa nodded.

“Of course.”

“Before my mother died, she was the biggest thorn in my father’s side. They fought constantly. She never hesitated to tell him when he was being an idiot, according to her.” Narcissa’s eyes widened. “She even hexed him a few times, when he refused to heed her advice, which almost never happened because he almost always deferred to her in every matter.” Lucius stared out the window. “My father valued her opinion, no matter how loud it was, over everyone else’s. Even after she was gone, I’d catch him in the study questioning her portrait, seeking that same fight he always got from her in life. He loved her, Narcissa. He loved her fight, her spirit. And he wasn’t a perfect man, or a perfect father. But he did love her.”

“So is that what plagues you at night? What keeps you up so late you have to wander down to the common room in the wee hours of the night? Finding a love like your father’s?” Lucius chuckled softly.

“Is it too silly of me? To lose sleep over the fear I may never find love?” Narcissa shook her head, biting back a small smile.

“I don’t think it’s silly at all.” Lucius smiled at her.

“So,” He said after a moment. “Now that you know my deepest darkest fear, tell me what it is that keeps you up at night? Something far more dramatic, I presume.” Narcissa schooled her face, trying not to show the fear that welled up at his words.

“I have.. nightmares.” She said.

“Oh!” Lucius’s eyes widened with surprise. “Well, that I can help you with!” Narcissa shook her head.

“I can’t take dreamless draughts anymore, Lucius. They’re far too addictive.”

“No, no dreamless draughts. Are you familiar with occlumency?”

“Yes.. but I’m rather terrible at it.” Lucius smiled.

“Well you’re in luck because I am actually quite adept at it, and, if I can take a moment to brag, I have been told I’m an excellent teacher.” Narcissa sighed. She was familiar with occlumency. Part of being a member of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black meant that you must learn to protect your mind from all manner of attack. Unfortunately for Narcissa, no amount of teaching had given her the ability.

“I’m telling you, Lucius, I’m truly terrible.” Lucius scooted forward in his chair, straightening his posture and Narcissa knew she had lost the battle.

“Tell me what you’ve learned and I’ll be the judge of that.”

So Narcissa recounted how her mother had taught her to empty her mind, to hide her most important thoughts in locked vaults, how to fend off attacks and fight back.

“Well, it’s no wonder you’re shit at it then,” Narcissa barked a small laugh at the profanity. “You’ve had horrid teachers. Occlumency is not about playing a game of hide and seek, nor is it about attacking and defending. Occlumency is about organization, about compartmentalization. Here. Let’s begin.”

Lucius explained occlumency in a way Narcissa had never heard. He described how she should file her memories, how she should filter them from least to most important. He taught her how to throw memories at the forefront of her mind, to focus on the inane rather than focus on shielding the important. He taught her the art of evading rather than attacking, taught her how to use her memories to bury important or unpleasant ones. Narcissa closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her.

“Lock it away,” He whispered, his lips maddeningly close to her ear. “Bury it somewhere you would have to search to find. Surround it with things less important. Bury it under beauty, under laughter, under moments that bring you such powerful joy that they cannot help but outshine whatever terror you’re hiding. Let that flood your mind, let it overtake everything else until there is nothing left to fear.”  

She exhaled as she pulled memories to the forefront of her mind. Her and Regulus laughing in the garden. Bellatrix pushing her on the swing. Trying ice cream for the first time. Sitting at the window, talking with the sea creatures. Lucius’s hands in her own..

She opened her eyes. Lucius was smiling at her.

“Did it work?” He whispered. She nodded.

“I think.. I think so.”

“Then I suppose there’s nothing left except to go sleep.” She ignored the feeling of disappointment at the thought of leaving him.

“I suppose you’re right,” She said softly. He stood up, extending his hand to her. She accepted it, allowing him to pull her up.

“Goodnight, Narcissa. It’s been a pleasure spending this evening with you.” He bowed at the waist, a gesture so silly and formal she couldn’t help but giggle. He grinned at the sound and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, and she erupted into laughter once more.

“Goodnight, Lucius, and thank you for a wonderful evening. I could not have asked for better company.”

Narcissa crept back into her dorm room, careful not to awake the other sleeping figures and slipped into her bed. She closed her eyes and proceeded to pull her happiest memories to the front of her mind. She and Andromeda making finger puppets in her room. Sirius reading stories to her when they were just children. Her first time on a broom. Lucius’s lips pressed against the back of her hand.

When she finally drifted off, she did not dream.