Blossoming Delight
“Have you heard? There’s a new dueling club now.”
Eleanor slid into the seat next to Narcissa at the dining hall, picking a roll of bread onto her plate. It had been a week since the end of Christmas break, and the students at Hogwarts were adjusting back into the swing of school. Winter was still reigning down in the castle, and despite the amount of heat charms, it was positively freezing. Narcissa pulled her cloak tighter around her as she regarded her friend.
“Dueling club? For what?” She asked.
Eleanor shrugged, “I think it’s just to practice spells on other people. Doesn’t sound too safe, though.”
Alice Parkinson joined their group at the table. She took the last piece of bacon that Eleanor was reaching for, and ignored the glare she got in return. “I’m pretty sure Lucius started it. Seems like the type of thing he’d do.”
Narcissa cringed at Alice’s use of his first name, the very name he’d so intimately told herto call him, which took her back to ten days ago when they’d shared that moment together on the balcony. She frowned, recalling his most recent behavior.
Lucius had left her on the balcony alone with her thoughts, and she just stood there watching him race out as if he hadn’t just kissed her, quite passionately for that matter. She was sure it wasn’t because he was upset or disgusted, right? Narcissa was inexperienced, but she still assumed he’d enjoyed it, considering how he didn’t pull away and actually initiated a second one.
They met again on the train back to Hogwarts, when Selwyn, Eleanor, Lestrange, Avery, and of course, Malfoy, had completely raided the compartment she was sharing with Priscilla. Practically stealing all the sweets they bought beforehand, the group made themselves comfortable in the very tight compartment, and Lucius naturally took a seat next to Narcissa, nonchalantly wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Lucius never spoke to her, but instead succeeded at subtly maneuvering their positions so she was practically leaning against his chest. His (rather surprisingly) toned form pressed firmly against her through only the thin layer of his white blouse, which she was not thinking about, definitely. Narcissa lowered her head into her book and pretended to be interested in its contents; it was the longest train ride of her life.
Since then, they’d barely seen each other outside of potions class. Slughorn’s long lectures provided cover for her lack of speaking to him, especially because there weren’t any labs or projects yet, but Narcissa knew they’d start again soon. She also knew that Lucius was probably trying to create time to talk to her, but the young witch was not yet sure whether continuing the silent embarrassment with him or an actual talk would be less humiliating.
Rabastan Lestrange’s voice brought her back to the present moment.
“So little Lucy finally got his club together, ay? Good for him. I’m excited to destroy all those little puny Gryffindors,” he smirked, using his wand to send an egg across the hall, hitting a Hufflepuff in the face.
Alice giggled, “Throw one at that kid, down there.”
Narcissa followed her pointed finger to a first-year Slytherin, sitting by himself at the end of the table. He was eating a bowl of porridge, though he seemed to be engrossed in the book beside him. His hair was up to his shoulders, quite greasy, and overall not the most pleasing on the eye. Narcissa frowned slightly; she’d seen him sometimes in the hallways; always by himself.
Lestrange shrugged and picked up his wand once more when—
“Don’t.”
Surprised at herself for even speaking up for a boy that she didn’t even know, Narcissa stared sternly at Lestrange as the joke died out. She quickly cleared her throat and stabbed the sausage on her plate, “He’s in our house, it’s not a good look for us if we bully our own mates.”
“Whatever you say, Cissy.” Lestrange settled.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not my name.”
“Neither is Baby Black but you seem to be fine with that.”
Alice snickered (again, quite annoyingly), “Look at you sticking up for the weak, such a good prefect. I bet you’re the perfect pureblood daughter.”
Narcissa bit her tongue, not responding. She’d learned in her first years that it only did more harm to provoke an argument even further, so she silently rolled her eyes and looked back down at the first-year. Severus Snape was his name.
୨⎯⎯୧
Later that week, Narcissa caught Andromeda holding hands with Edward Tonks.
How had a mere Hufflepuff, a mudblood for that matter, managed to corrupt her sweet sister, who valued family above all? Narcissa said nothing as she watched them walk down the History corridor, talking to each other, even laughing together. And why did her sister look so happy with him?
Later that night, the blonde found her sister in the bathroom before bed, and demanded to know. Andromeda stared blankly for a second and sighed. She told Narcissa that she was just messing around with him.
Narcissa furrowed her brow, “And what about his blood? You cannot be with him.”
Her sister frowned. “That’s why no one will know. It’s just a small secret, Cissy. Don’t worry, I won’t tarnish our family’s reputation.”
Narcissa left the bathroom feeling sick and unconvinced. It was nice to know that her sister still cared about their familial values, and even if they were just ‘messing around’, why would she do it with a muggle-born like Edward… or “Ted” as she called him.
୨⎯⎯୧
Narcissa tied her hair back into a ponytail with a white ribbon and headed down the stairs into the common room. She’d only have to get through ten minutes of Prefect rounds with Charles Carrow and then she could finally sink into her bed. However, it was not Carrow that she saw waiting for her at the exit, but rather Malfoy.
“Good evening Narcissa,” he spoke, grey eyes looking over her confused expression.
She picked up her clipboard and walked towards him. “Hello… Lucius. Where’s Carrow?”
“I’m afraid he’s fallen ill. I will do rounds with you tonight.”
Narcissa raised a brow, “He was fine this morning”.
His eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go, we’re already late.”
She looked away and followed him out the common room door. They walked in silence for a bit; Narcissa knew Carrow probably wasn’t sick, but she also knew this was the first time it was them alone since their situation at the Christmas party.
They’d just made their way to the end of the second hall when he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a darkened corridor. She stood stiffly, practically pushed up against the wall, staring back at Lucius, whose hands were still gripping her arms. It was quite a suggestive position actually, but she had no choice but to just look dumbfounded at him.
“Wh-”
“We haven’t talked in a week.” He said, almost glaring into her eyes.
“Well,” Had it really been just a week? It felt like far longer to her, “I suppose so.”
“That’s a problem.”
“Is it?”
“Narcissa.”
Her stomach did a somersault as he uttered her name through his teeth. Lucius was clearly frustrated, keeping his grasp firm and his eyes boring into hers. She didn’t look away, and her brow remained tight.
“Yes?” whispered Narcissa.
He released his grip on her and ran his fingers through his hair. Almost before she was about to ask him what they were doing tucked away, he spoke, “Have you ever been kissed before?”
She almost laughed. “Besides you?”
“Yes, Narcissa, besides me.”
“Why does it matter?” Oh, she was definitely getting on his nerves now.
Lucius took a step back. “So I was your first?”
“Well yes, am I supposed to be ashamed?”
“Do you regret it?”
No. Of course not. No matter how awkwardly he’d left her there, it was possibly the best outcome the night could’ve had. And he had been gentle. To a certain extent, of course.
“No.”
“Good.” he nodded, still gazing seriously down at her.
She watched him look away and then back. What was his purpose in all of this? She was positive he’d switched their Prefect schedules to be with her, just to ask if she liked the kiss? Was he really that narcissistic?
“Oh, fuck this.” He groaned, grabbed her face, and kissed her.
But this time was different. It was very different. Gone was the gentleness from their Christmas night. Pure hunger and borderline desperation drove his lips against her, and Narcissa gave in. She let him push her against the cold stone wall, she let his hands travel down from her cheeks to her waist, she let him dominate the kiss, his tongue slipping in. Her hands reached up into his hair and pulled him closer.
She was allowed a breath of air when he pulled away, trailing down her neck and planting soft—and sloppy—kisses around. Her body jolted when his hot breath hit a particular spot, and she sighed as he hummed and sucked it.
“Lucius,” Narcissa said weakly.
He paused, rising back up to look down at her. “Yes?”
“We should talk.”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“Well. This is highly inappropriate considering we’re not— you know.”
Why am I so out of breath?
“Whatever you’re talking about, we are now.”
“We are? You want to be with me?”
He chuckled, “I thought I’d made that clear already. I’d want nothing more than to court you, Narcissa Black.”
This was news to her . In the back of her mind, she knew her mother would pick her suitor this year, but she honestly couldn't care less at the moment. “Okay then, Lucius Malfoy.”
He grinned, “I’ve always thought you were beautiful. And brilliant. And possibly the most patient person ever, to be able to put up with my stupidity in Potions.”
“You’re not bad-looking either.”
“Oh, I know. Is that why you send Alice Parkinson daggers everytime she flirts with me?”
She flushed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Can I kiss you again?” He asked, changing the topic and already knowing the answer.
Narcissa tilted her head, now feeling a new sense of confidence, ran her fingers up his robes up to his chin. You really have to ask?”
He smirked and captured her lips once again.
It wasn’t until two hours past their curfew when they walked back to the common room, holding each other's hand, slipping in without making noise thanks to Lucius’ muting charms. Narcissa stood on her tip-toes and pecked his cheek goodnight once more before beginning up the stairs to her dormitory.
୨⎯⎯୧
Narcissa never had night rounds with Carrow again. Somehow, Lucius had bribed Slughorn into changing their schedules, not that she was complaining.
Publicly, no one would’ve noticed their new relationship. They never walked hand in hand in the hallways or showed anything beyond basic admiration. The two only did small gestures such as light touches under the dining hall table, writing teasing notes during Potions, and late night talks by the fire.
Privately, Narcissa had never been so happy. She looked forward to their night shifts together, which would—more often than not—turn into heated make-out sessions in corners she didn’t even know existed. Lucius was equally as attached, not hesitating to remind Narcissa of his desire for her.
One night, as they were walking back, Narcissa asked about his father. Immediately noting his change in demeanor, she quickly pushed it off as being too nosy.
“No, it’s fine. My father’s quite dreadful to be honest. He’s on mandatory bedrest for probably the rest of his life. They predict he’ll pass later this year.” He said, voice dull and looking straight ahead.
She bit her lip, “I’m sorry, Lucius. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
He turned to face her, smiling lightly and once again becoming that sweet boy she had become familiar with, “There’s hardly anything to be done. Don’t worry.”
୨⎯⎯୧
Contact with Bellatrix slowed during Narcissa’s fifth year. After barely seeing her during the Holidays, Bellatrix sent minimal letters to her younger sisters, and when she did, they were mainly just complaining about their parents or her new husband.
Bellatrix seemed to be bored by her husband, which Narcissa was surprised about, considering their shared love for violence. Her oldest sister seemed to get her happiness from another man… if he even was a man. During mid-February, Narcissa received a letter from her.
Cissy,
I’ve met the Dark Lord & I’ve sworn my allegiance to him. I hope you follow in my footsteps. He is incredible in every way, enchanted with DARK MAGIC. He’s helping me grow my power and I’m learning more spells than I ever did at school.
He’s already planning to mobilize his ranks, and I’m among them. We’re going to establish pure-blood supremacy and wipe society of its dirty stains. Come and fight with us when you graduate. Andy’s too weak to join, she’s already said she wants nothing to do with fighting. But you’re different Cissy and I’ve already told him about you.
We’ll attack soon. Wait until we do.
Bellatrix
Great. Another freak to endorse her sister’s violent tendencies.
This “Dark Lord” seemed more like an imaginary figure than an actual person. But then again, if he was as powerful as Bellatrix claimed him to be, then perhaps he was indeed a threat.
Narcissa supported blood purity as much as the next, but she didn’t see the need to absolutely slaughter all muggle-borns and half bloods; she’d just choose to ignore them. Whatever attack her sister was a part of was bound to cause a massive divide throughout the Wizarding World.
The clock read 12:42.
She jumped out of her chair, stuffing the letter into her bag, and left all her items in the common room. Narcissa had agreed to go to Hogsmeade (for the first time) with Lucius at 12:30; not that she had much of a choice, he’d just said “come with me” and then walked away. She tried to object, but found no logic in her argument, especially considering it was a Saturday, and there were no tests the next week.
She dashed down the hallways and towards the main entrance, cursing herself for getting lost in her thoughts and forgetting the time. Lucius was never a patient man; that much was clear when he kissed her.
When she spotted his silhouette, leaning against a concrete pillar, she slowed to a walk. He looked up and immediately furrowed his brows.
“Narcissa, it’s been twelve minu-”
He stopped, eyes widening a bit, but she didn’t notice, a little distraught about making him possibly upset before their first “date” actually began. “I know I’m really sorry Lucius— what is it?”
He simply stared. “Your hair isn’t tied.”
Heat rose to her face. She’d been so engrossed in the letter that she forgot to put her hair up in a braid or ponytail. “Oh. Do you have a ribbon? I guess I forgot—”
“No. Keep it like this. I really like it.”
Okay then, Narcissa thought.
She signaled to the exit and the two of them started walking to the village. Lucius kept glazing over her figure, seemingly enamoured by the way she wore her hair that day. Narcissa made a mental note to not tie it up as often anymore.
Lucius made sure that Narcissa knew every store in Hogsmeade; they practically visited each and every one. Anyone who looked at them would just assume they were close friends, even though Narcissa had never willingly been on a Hogsmeade trip, but then again, most gossipers were distracted with their own business. Lucius bought her a late lunch and they chatted together whilst exploring.
In a perfume shop, Narcissa was busy testing a load of scents while her partner watched. Contrary to her original assumption, he was not bored, but seemed rather interested in what she liked.
“Cinnamon. Sweet, but not something you’d want to wear on yourself.” She explained, letting him sniff the perfume.
“I agree.”
Narcissa paused and looked up at him. When he met her gaze, she doubted she’d ever get used to the feeling of his eyes on her. “What fragrances do you prefer on women?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, “I’ve never cared for the way someone prefers to smell. I believe my mother likes citrus.”
“Citrus is very standard for our status, but I think it might be too strong for me.”
She picked up a blue-tinted bottle with the label in French, and smelt its tint.
“I like this one. Lucius, what does it say?”
He read the bottle name out loud and frowned. “Magnolia. Odd type of flower, I think.”
“I think it’s lovely.”
“Very well then, you ought to have it.”
Narcissa nodded and pulled out her purse for money, when he motioned his own. She was about to protest but he’d taken the bottle from her hand and already waltzed over to the counter. A couple seconds later they walked out, him holding her new gift, and she asked why he paid for it.
Lucius grinned. “It’s Valentine's Day, Narcissa. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t buy you everything you wanted?”
She ignored her urge to give him a peck on the cheek, knowing they were in public, but she made up for it later that night when it was just them together in the dark hallway.
୨⎯⎯୧
Severus Snape was a character that she seemed to always run into. Despite his well-known mother, Snape was the victim of many of his house’s antics, many of them involving Lestrange and other boys in Narcissa’s friend group. Although pity is not what he wanted, the young witch couldn’t stop herself from feeling bad for him.
Over the next few months, Narcissa started making subtle conversation with him, offering him homework tips, and even sitting with him at meals. She’d soon learn of his brilliance. He had a natural talent with almost every subject, with a particular interest in dark spells. Although quite reserved at first, Severus had slowly opened up to her after learning she was not like her other dense peers.
He recognized her commitment to studies, and for perhaps the first time in her life, Narcissa was originally admired for something other than her looks.
୨⎯⎯୧
March went by swiftly. Narcissa found emotional release by spending time with her girl friends and during her daily potions class with Lucius. Just as she predicted, the labs started once again and the pair always had fun working together, even while he might’ve been a little touchy and hands always seemed to find her bare skin.
One night, Narcissa had been in the library for—she didn’t know how long. Schoolwork had gotten the best of her this semester; even though she was brilliant, it was perhaps not the smartest idea to put 100% effort into all her classes all the time. She could practically hear her father scolding her for caring too much about academic achievement. If he could see her now, he’d probably shake his head and click his tongue as he liked to do. At least she made up for it by wearing a white headband he’d bought her several years ago, combined with the fact that her blonde hair now was down and at the point of her lower back.
The only thing Narcissa could pay attention to was the grumbling in her stomach and the excessive amount of words that she had yet to read. History of Magic was a simple class, until it was the night before a notorious in-class essay, to which she needed to cram three units worth of notes into.
Narcissa didn’t bat an eye when the chair across from her was pulled out and someone sat down. She continued to ferociously scan the text in her books when the person across pushed a plate of food towards her.
"I heard you've locked yourself in here for the past four hours.” Lucius stated plainly.
"Did Eleanor tell you?" She looked up and noted his somewhat-exposed collarbones from his white blouse, then eyes fell to the plate, "what's that for?"
"I also heard that you didn't eat anything today," he explained, and transfigured her quill into a fork.
Narcissa was not budging. She said nothing and returned her attention to the paper in front of them.
Lucius smirked and leaned back into his chair, arms crossed. "You know, for a girl who was practically moaning for my attention last night, you sure are acting cold right now."
It worked. Narcissa’s head snapped up, flushed red in embarrassment, and quickly looked left and right to see if anyone was close enough to hear them. Thankfully there was no one, but her main problem was the 6’2 blonde man who was currently sitting across from her with a smug look etched on his annoyingly sharp face.
“Why would you mention that here? And I wasn't ‘moaning’ for your attention, if I recall correctly, which I am, it was you who was pleading to touch me and w—”
“Okay okay! I was just joking, Flower.”
“Flower? I thought you liked my name.”
“Just because I like your name doesn't mean I can’t call you something else. It’s a term of endearment, Narcissa, and it’s quite fitting for you. Do you always pick a fight with everything someone else does?” He teased.
“You—”
“Eat your dinner. I know you’re hungry.”
He was right, as he often was. Narcissa pushed her books away and began eating with a sigh. It was tasty, just what her body craved at the moment, and she pushed down the feeling of gratitude for him when she noticed his entitled smirk at watching her enjoy her meal.
“Good, was that so hard? Keep eating, it’s my turn to talk.”
Lucius recounted a funny story of how Travers almost died during dueling club earlier because Avery had sent him a curse while he wasn’t paying attention. She probably wouldn’t admit it, but Narcissa loved listening to him ramble about his day, almost as much as he enjoyed hearing about her’s.
Moments when he showed he was actively caring about her seemed to patch the holes that were created from her lack of communication with her sisters. Her friends were great, but they were not the type of people she’d seek to confide in. Until recently, those people were Bellatrix and Andromeda, but as time went on she felt that Lucius would soon take their spot.