Ice and Warmth
A small breeze accompanied the sunlight seeping through the trees in the Hogwarts courtyard. In the month of September, many students could be seen in groups spread out across the grass, enjoying the weather. Narcissa Black was no different and sat with Priscilla during their lunch break.
Once again, Narcissa Black kept her hair tied in a long braid every day of the year, only letting it down during the night. It was long and gorgeous, but when she was thirteen, Bellatrix had commented that it looked better neat and up. She never let anyone touch it.
A golden “Prefect” badge was pinned below the Slytherin emblem on her robes and shone in the sunlight, a friendly reminder that she was chosen to become the female representative of her house in her fifth year. She did her rounds with Charles Carrow, her male counterpart. They barely talked, and it was the most awkward part of her night routine. Still, she was grateful to be selected.
“Would you look at those two; they act like they rule the world,” Priscilla mumbled, and Narcissa turned to see who she was talking about.
Rabastan Lestrange strutted down the corridors and onto the grass, sending a spark of light to a group of first-year Gryffindors, who, appropriately, scrambled to get out of the way. But how could Narcissa look at Lestrange when next to him was Lucius Malfoy.
Significantly taller than the boy next to him, Lucius laughed as his friend sent another blast toward the poor kids. The blonde male settled in a nook against a stone nook across the yard. He looked the same as last year, only slightly taller, but that slight smirk remained. It made Narcissa want to either slap or kiss it off whenever she caught him looking at her.
Which was quite often.
It was almost like an unspoken law that all the famous gossips within the school had agreed on: Narcissa Black was surely the Princess of Slytherin house; fair and lovely, widely respected, and overachieving in several aspects. Just as respected was Sixth Year Lucius Malfoy, a man with a reputation so high that the angels must’ve seen it. Many irrelevant speculators were sure he was richer than the Minister, which he was. He carried himself with self-purpose, like he had already become the lord of his house, which he hadn’t, yet. All facts considered, something in the air had told everyone that they would belong to each other at some point.
She knew that he knew that they would look exceptional together. Both so similar in status, with similar beliefs and interests, and of course their complimentary looks. Seated together in potions for their second year in a row, she could often feel him staring at her, but she would fool herself by putting it off as nothing except Slughorn’s dullness, (even when she’d purposefully leave the top three buttons of her blouse unbuttoned, or tint her lips a darker shade of her natural pale pink). Sometimes, in the common room, she couldn’t help but study him too, finding herself increasingly attracted to him whenever he laughed with his friends, or even just read the newspaper on the coach. They’d catch each other looking, but neither of them mentioned it.
During her fifth year, Narcissa began to understand why people like Alice Parkinson were constantly throwing themselves at him. She remained poised, only regarding him when he spoke to her first, calming whatever butterflies spawned in her stomach when he complimented her brewing skills, but continued to skip meals (out of habit, at this point).
Narcissa knew she’d caught his attention, but they only talked during potions class, since both of them were especially busy during their academically heavy years. Besides, she’d been raised to not give any mind to anything having remotely to do with crushes and perhaps worse, love.
୨⎯⎯୧
One October night, after Narcissa had finished her rounds, she bid Carrow goodnight and collapsed onto a couch by the fireplace, wanting just a couple minutes to think by herself before sleeping. Everyone was in bed already—well, everyone except the boy with silver hair who sat by himself, gaze glued to the window.
It was common knowledge that Abraxas Malfoy had fallen ill, a victim of the DragonPox epidemic that plagued Eastern Europe, where he resided. No one was sure if he would recover or not, and it was clearly weighing heavy on the young heir’s mind. He had skipped the past two potions classes, and his friends granted him the space he needed, even if it meant staying up past hours in the common room alone.
They sat in silence, and Narcissa wondered if he was aware of her presence.
“Narcissa?” His voice spoke softer than she had ever heard it, and she turned to face him as he cleared his throat, “Would you want to review for our exam this week?”
Narcissa’s brain went blank, she forgot about Slughorn’s habit of having assessments at the end of the week.
Lucius shifted, “Unless you want to sleep”
“No! I mean, yes I do value my sleep—but of course, let’s study.” She quickly got up and headed towards a table. He followed, placing his textbook and notes between them, and sat across from her.
In the two hours they spent “studying”, Narcissa Black had learned a lot about Lucius Malfoy. When he addressed her, it wasn’t in the arrogant tone he commonly used in public; he was nicer and seemed truly interested in what she had to say.
“Bella’s always a mess when it comes to house parties. She never wants to go and she’ll purposefully ruin her outfit just to defy my mother. Andy’s better, but she’ll go missing a couple of times.”
He chuckled, “I’ve only seen Andromeda a couple of times, she’s usually at the Burke’s summer party,” His lip quirked and he looked up at her, “When do you plan on making your first appearance at these events?”
Narcissa blushed and looked down, “I’m attending this year’s Christmas celebration,”
“Well, I’ll be sure to give you a dance.” He said, still looking at her.
A silence fell over both of them, did he just… flirt? Narcissa kept her gaze low and stared at the parchment between them. She felt him get up and watched him run his hands through his hair.
“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.
“Only if you’re awake enough,” she teased.
Lucius chucked, “Of course,”. He gave her a smile, not a smirk, and headed towards the boys' dormitory.
“Goodnight, Narcissa.”
୨⎯⎯୧
“An endurus potion requires what type of eggs?”
Lucius rubbed his face into his hands. Studying with Narcissa proved to be a more serious task than the previous night. Their test was tomorrow, and her drive to do well on it caused her guard to be up the whole time.
She bore holes into his eyes, annoyed, “Malfoy! Can you focus?”
She was still in her v-neck sweater, with a white-tucked blouse peeking out of the collar. Her neatly-kept braid was messier, due to it being late at night, and Lucius was convinced she had fussed with it a thousand times the past hour out of pure annoyance while talking to him.
“You know you blush when you’re frustrated?”
Well, if she wasn’t red out of irritation, she certainly was now. Narcissa scoffed, half wishing he’d just focus and half wishing he’d continue. Her mother would surely scold her if she knew her daughter was enjoying receiving this male attention.
Lucius watched her shift nervously before he picked up their written guide, “Let’s go down the list one more time.”
Narcissa turned towards the clock, it was half past midnight, she sighed and agreed.
The pair had hardly gotten through half of it when they both fell asleep.
୨⎯⎯୧
Lucius awoke two hours later, confused and then finally registering that it was just the two of them alone in the common room. He thought about waking her up, but couldn’t bring himself to disturb Narcissa, whose head was resting on her right arm, just centimeters away from his hand.
No matter how long he denied it, she was by far the prettiest girl in perhaps the whole school; as if he wasn’t reminded of it every day. She looked peaceful, and he found himself not wanting to look away. Fatigue ended up consuming him, and he figured he ought to do something about it.
Unable to enter the girls' dormitory, Lucius gently scooped Narcissa up, placing her down on a couch near the fire, and then heading to his dorm.
୨⎯⎯୧
In her fifth year, Narcissa Black sees Andromeda with a Hufflepuff boy.
They’re never doing anything besides just walking and talking together, but that is bad enough. Narcissa sees him as a leech who probably wants her sister’s status and wealth, while Andromeda is simply too nice to notice.
Narcissa watches one morning as Andromeda sits by the Hufflepuff table and shares a biscuit with that boy. She learns later that his name is Edward Tonks. And he's a muggle-born.
୨⎯⎯୧
The Slytherin common room was filled with much more than chatter this evening. Their quidditch team, led by Travers, had secured Slytherin’s undefeat so far this season, by crushing Ravenclaw the day before Christmas Break began.
It was intense and greatly anticipated, but Narcissa Black did not attend. She was caught by great surprise when a stampede of students burst through the common room doors, followed by the members of the team, who casted spells of confetti.
Escaping the noise, Narcissa gathered her things and began heading to the library when a pair of arms grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.
“The library is closed at this hour,” Lucius Malfoy spoke, “I thought you’d know that by now, Prefect.”
Narcissa folded her arms across her chest, “Well unless you’d snitch on me, I don’t see the issue with me going.”
That damn smirk again!
“Why aren’t you celebrating with the others?” Asked Narcissa.
He looked down the hallway to where a group of Slytherin boys were wrestling each other, although it seemed more rough than he’d like. In the middle, Travers and Rabastan yanked the underclassmen’s hoods and tossed them around.
He grimaced. “I would be, but I favor talking with you over having Lestrange trying to assassinate me.”
Narcissa laughed, and Lucius swore it was the first time he’d actually seen her smile brightly. She composed herself after she caught him staring at her, once again feeling nervous in front of him.
“You know what I just realized, Malfoy?”
He frowned, “I think we’re past the point of last names. Please, call me Lucius.”
“Well, you know what I just realized, Lucius?” She asked again, not breaking eye contact, and intentionally raising her brows. She knew her effect on him.
He exhaled. “Yes?”
“You’re the only person that doesn’t call me 'Baby Black’ ”
Lucius grinned and closed the space between them. Narcissa wondered if she would rather lean into him or melt into the floor.
“That’s because you have a beautiful name.”
She felt herself flush.
He laughed, “I’m glad you weren’t given a dreadful name based on a constellation like others that I know.”
She rolled her eyes, “Oh shut up.”
Classic Malfoy, complimenting her and then immediately throwing a jab at her family. But his eyes showed no mirth this time; they grew serious in a matter of seconds.
She blinked, breaking eye contact to look at the ground. His hand found her chin and raised it. Forced to look at him, she realized he was certainly the most charming man she’d met, which is perhaps why everyone thought they would look stellar together. The sound of her housemates down the hall were drowned out in her thoughts.
“You truly are beautiful, Narcissa,” Lucius whispered, so soft that Narcissa thought she might’ve imagined that he said it.
His other hand found Narcissa’s shoulder and he leaned in to kiss her, but fate has a funny way of ruining stolen moments. A loud yelp sounded from behind them, both of them flinching and pulling away. Utterly frustrated, Lucius looked at her once more before turning to attend to the child that was now on the floor, bleeding.
Thank Merlin we’re leaving for holiday tomorrow, Narcissa thought as she gazed over his hovered figure, casting a spell to stop the first year’s pain. The young witch had a feeling she’d be very distracted on the train ride home.
୨⎯⎯୧
“You certainly live up to your princess title.”
Narcissa turned and saw her older sister Andromeda peeking through the crack of her bedroom door. The younger sister grinned and let her in. She took note of the glittering stone on her sister’s left hand, a reminder that her arrangement with Evan Rosier was now official. The brunette wore her hair down, and it was shorter than her sister remembered, only reaching her shoulders. Narcissa always thought her sister looked best in dark blue, the color of the dress she would wear tonight.
“You think that I look like a princess? Andy, look in the mirror.”
The blonde walked towards her vanity to finish her makeup. It was Christmas Eve, and Narcissa’s first time going to a Pureblood event. As much as she was excited, her nervousness and anticipation to see a certain someone was getting in the way of her normal, confident self.
Andromeda joined her in the mirror. “Your hair looks best when it’s down, Cissy.”
Druella had given strict instructions to her third-born daughter for this night, and Narcissa would be damned to forget them. One of them was to have her hair back in a ponytail, because she was wearing a sleeveless and collarless dress.
She hummed, looking at herself one last time. Her dress was simple yet elegant. It was lavender, with two thick pieces hugging her shoulders, which exposed her pale skin and collarbones, in which she adorned a simple diamond necklace. The dress hugged her waist, and went out, piling in the form of many skirts near her feet. Narcissa threw on her shell and looked at her sister.
Being her first public appearance deemed as of age in high society, there were particularly a large number of eyes on her. She was trained to show only confidence, knowing from the start that her impression today would be the talk of many families, playing a big role in her luck with engagements.
“You’ll certainly be the prettiest girl there; I’m sure of it,” said Andromeda, “It’s a shame, mum’s gonna make you dance with every suitor there.”
“I’m sure she won’t.”
୨⎯⎯୧
Narcissa Black was exhausted.
They had arrived fashionably late, and the young blonde didn’t even have a second to spare before her mother threw her towards Oliver Nott, who was more than happy to dance with her. He turned out to be quite talkative, asking Narcissa tons of questions while they spun each other round and round. She replied, but in short answers, mainly wondering when the song would end.
It was only after her third dance that she was given a break, settling down next to Priscilla. Her friend welcomed her and passed on her glass of sparkling punch.
“Have you danced with your blonde prince yet?” The brunette teased.
Narcissa shook her head. She hadn’t even seen Lucius Malfoy, and almost began to think he didn’t even attend, though his mother was across the room chatting with the Burke’s. Oliver Nott found his way to the table and Narcissa worried he was about to ask her for another dance, but thankfully took Priscilla instead.
She sat by herself for ten minutes, watching all her practically perfect peers dance with each other. Everything was calculated. It was like the boys had a list of every girl they were to dance with, and skillfully maneuvered across the floor to meet their matches. Even their parents spoke in a code-like way, showering each other in artificial compliments while others showed no shame in gossiping.
Narcissa huffed and got up to go find either of her sisters. Bellatrix ought to be here, since graduating didn’t excuse purebloods from these sorts of events. She turned a corner and slammed into the chest of a familiar suitor, the one she’d been covertly searching for. Lucius Malfoy, dressed in a classic black suit, with his hair down and a little more tame than at school, held her upright as she regained her balance.
His grey eyes looked her up and down once, then met hers, “And here I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
Feeling defensive and trying not to focus on his hands on her bare skin, Narcissa fumbled with her words; “Me? I- I’ve been looking for you, Malfoy.”
“Ah, so you have been expecting me. How lovely to know.”
She grew hot, either with frustration from his audacity to poke fun at her, or her embarrassment after accidentally slipping that she had been thinking about him. The young witch almost walked away, until she spotted her Aunt Walburga, heading right towards her.
“Oh, Merlin…” She uttered, wanting to turn invisible on the spot. Lucius gave her a confused look and turned to face her very drunken aunt approaching them. Clearly he had no idea of Walburga's tendencies to drink half her body weight at parties and practically spill every single secret she knows. One of the reasons Narcissa never really liked talking to her; she had absolutely no filter.
Narcissa started, “Aunt, how nice of y-”
“Oh I must say dear, you look absolutely DELIGHTFUL in your dress, like it was made for you! You truly do put all the other ladies here to shame! They look like HOMELESS compared to you, darling.”
Beyond mortified at the volume in which Walburga was speaking, in front of Lucius Malfoy no less, Narcissa awkwardly thanked her for the compliments and asked if she needed anything.
“I wouldn’t bother you even if I was dying, Narcissa! Don’t worry about me; you should focus on landing yourself in the arms of a handsome man tonight,” Narcissa turned crimson, “But it seems like you already have…” Walburage trailed off, eyeing Lucius—who seemed to be enjoying the whole encounter.
When her aunt had finally left them, he took her hand. “Would you like to get some air?”
She nodded, unknowing of how to proceed with what he’d just witnessed. He led her through a long and decorated hallway, away from the party, until they reached two glass doors leading to the balcony. The Selwyns had a gorgeous mansion, not as big as the Black’s, but their garden made up for it. They walked onto the balcony, taking in the view. Rows of flower bushes, topped with a flowing fountain of water in the center, stole Narcissa’s breath away as she looked down at some of the people talking there. She almost forgot Lucius was still there. Almost.
"I know that I promised to dance with you before, but I figured you needed some rescuing first."
Oh, how heroic of him. She hummed and said nothing in return.
“Á quoi pensez-vous, mademoiselle?”
Narcissa rolled her eyes. She knew he was fluent in French; she’d studied his family tree and learned of his ancestors’ descent from there. She never learned the language, which meant he could quite literally say whatever he wanted and she’d be standing there, clueless.
“If you’re going to say something to me, I’d prefer it in English.” Perhaps she was being a bit cold to him since she was sure he hadn’t said anything insulting, but her mind was still buzzing from her very embarrassing aunt.
“What are you thinking about?” He translated.
“Those flowers near the water. They’re so pretty.”
“Perhaps. Mais ils sont ennuyeux comparés à toi.”
She frowned. “What did you say?”
“I said I think they look dreadful.” A lie. But she didn’t know that.
Narcissa scoffed, “Maybe that’s because you don’t appreciate pretty things.”
He closed the doors behind them and met her at the railing. It was quite cold outside, but at least she had her shell wrapped firmly around her. Her body involuntarily jumped when she felt his palm rest on her lower back but kept her eyes trained on the greenery below.
“Who made your dress?”
Finally, Narcissa looked up at him. “Elise Moreau… she owns a small shop in Diagon Alley.”
“Well your aunt was right about one thing: You look exquisite, Narcissa.”
“Oh please, don’t flatter me monsieur ”.
“I’ll have to tell your mother to get you one in every color.”
“Malfoy, what are you even saying-”
All words were thrown out the window at the touch of his lips against hers. It didn’t register immediately that he was no longer beside her but rather, against her, his chest pushed against hers. He held their kiss for a couple of seconds, until she relaxed, and then pulled away, opening his eyes to see hers: wide open and shocked. He would’ve laughed, really, if he wasn’t so preoccupied focusing on her lingering touch on his lips.
“I told you to call me Lucius.” He muttered, lips so close to hers that she could practically feel his puffs of air. His hands moved to cup her face and brought her towards his embrace once again.
He took his time, savoring her plush lips, groaning when she sank into his hold. Her lips were softer than they looked, and he parted them with his tongue to explore what was beyond it. He tasted the punch she had been drinking beforehand and didn’t care much for the fact that she was inexperienced. She eventually relaxed and started kissing back, closing her eyes and sighing softly when his hands moved from her cheeks to her waist. There was nothing lewd or wet about the kiss, and Narcissa didn’t think it was possible for him to ever be this gentle yet passionate.
Perhaps this is what Narcissa wanted all this time. After what happened during the quidditch party, shouldn’t she have been elated? Although maybe he had kissed her just to get her to stop talking. It didn’t matter, so she said nothing and let him control their mouths.
She ignored the disappointment when he begrudgingly pulled away after what felt like mere minutes. He looked at her half-lidded eyes that were sure to haunt his dreams for the rest of his life . She stood, out of breath, utterly flustered but uncaring, only seeing him, despite the good chance that someone from below could be watching. Oh how desperately she wanted more, but he knew if they continued he’d not be able to control himself from being rough.
Fuck fuck FUCK.
He swallowed and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ll see you at school,” he uttered, and walked out, whisking the glass doors open quite aggressively.
Lucius had kissed his fair share of women, despite being taught that no respectable pureblood man should. Last year, he’d been convinced that Darcy Shafiq had his full attention, but he’d never kissed her like how he’d kissed Narcissa. Nor would he ever admit that what he saw in Darcy was mere physical attraction. This was different; Narcissa was different.
He rejoined the party while a small voice in his head was guilting him for leaving her outside. As far as Lucius was aware, Narcissa Black had never been spotted with a partner, and he was certain he might’ve just stolen her first kiss. Those feelings of guilt washed away when he remembered she’d actually kissed back, and willingly let him hold her, guiding her through it.
Lucius physically shook the thoughts away, downed a glass of wine, (his mother glared from across the room), and avoided all the girls who were not being shy about wanting a dance.
He did not pay attention when she reentered the room a couple of minutes later, nor when perhaps every single boy in the room asked her to dance. But as she caught his eye once more that evening, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like being the man to twirl, dip, and carry her around.
He looked away, brought another glass to his mouth, and viciously drank it.