Starcrossed

PROLONG

Tears of anger and rage splashed down upon the pages of the magazine she held in her shaking hands. She stared down at the pages, watching the moving pictures of one Lucius Malfoy dancing on his wedding day with the lovely Narcissa Black. The blond haired beauty was Narcissa Malfoy now, wed to Lucius Malfoy. Looking on with a smug smile at the dancing couple was a man that she loathed with every ounce of her being. Abraxas Malfoy, the patriarch of the Malfoy family.

The magazine even had a quote from Abraxas Malfoy. He had spoken of his joy in his son’s union with the lovely Narcissa and his excitement of when they would make him a grandfather. He had demurred from stating if he had a preference in gender for his first grandchild, but everyone who knew Abraxas knew that he wanted a male child to carry on the Malfoy name. Girls born of the great houses were beautiful treasures to be wed off in the name of alliance. They were not meant to lead or to rule the houses. At least men like Abraxas thought that way.

She glared at the photographs of the handsome Lucius and the beautiful Narcissa and she vibrated with rage. They would make such a beautiful son together. She shook her head and laughed cruelly. “Oh, I think not.” She murmured to herself. “Another son to the house of Malfoy would only make other’s suffer more. Oh no. No sons for the House of Malfoy. The name shall end with Lucius. Yes…”

She sat the magazine down carefully upon the table and then she walked swiftly to her book shelf to find just the right curse to lay down upon the newly married couple

FEW YEARS LATER

Narcissa Malfoy stared out of the window at the beauty of the surrounding landscape. Malfoy Manor boasted some of the greatest gardens in the country and she could attest to that, for she had thrown herself into making them the best in honor of her dead children.

In her seven years of marriage she had become pregnant six times and each time she had miscarried the child. Each time the child was clearly a boy, the male heir to the Malfoy name. With each miscarriage she felt more and more like a failure. The depression weighed heavily upon her, shrouding her. She had thrown herself into renovating the dark Malfoy Manor and its grounds into a fabulous estate to be envied by all of Wizarding Europe. Each of the gardens had been created out of love while she thought of her lost child. She poured her love and her grief into the work creating a work of art that could not be rivaled by the finest horticulturist in Britain.

She was proud of her work, but it was not enough. She longed for a child. She wished to be a mother and she needed a child in order to truly hold on to Lucius. She had heard the whispers, she knew that her father-in-law, Abraxas, was displeased with her and that he was already looking into annulling the marriage. She had reviewed her bonding contract and was relieved to see that the Lord Black, whom had negotiated her marriage contract personally, had insured that the contract stated she must bear a child. Child did not necessitate a male heir.

The healers had said she should not try again. They had warned her that it would jeopardize her health. She knew that she was putting herself at risk, her life in jeopardy, but she was desperate. She loved Lucius. She loved him with every fiber of her being. She knew that he loved her as well, though he never said so. He did not have to say the words, he showed her. It was there in the way he held her at night, in the way he looked at her, in the way he gently touched her cheek before he left her side at breakfast every morning. She knew that he too longed for father-hood and he also mourned their lost children.

‘I will give him a child.’ She vowed to herself.

She was a daughter of the House of Black. She was well versed in dark magic. She knew that there were potions that would assist her in having the longed for child. She had found just the potion to use but it was complicated to brew, too complicated for her. She had chosen to call in an old debt owed to her by Severus Snape. He was the youngest Potions Master in Europe. He was a genius when it came to his craft. She had just known that he would, not only be able to brew the potion, but he might even be able to improve upon it.

Severus had agreed to brew the potion for her. It was the challenge, she knew. He had never brewed a potion of it’s like before and he wished to test his skill. That was the lovely thing about Severus. He enjoyed a challenge.

The potion had been delivered to her two weeks ago and she had followed Severus’ instructions to the letter. She had taken the potion right after dinner and she had happily seduced her husband as soon as he had rejoined her in their suite. She had conceived that very night, she was sure of it.

FEW DAYS LATER
Lady Malfoy.” Came the voice of her Medi-witch Rachel Hawthorne.

Narcissa turned toward the dark haired woman, a soft smile of welcome curving her lips. “Healer Hawthorne, what a pleasant surprise. Please sit.” She said as she motioned with an elegant wave of her hand toward the opulent sofa and love seat.

“Thank you.” The woman replied as she seated herself upon the sofa.

Narcissa sat across from her on the love seat and then called her personal house elf, Miffy, and asked her to bring them some tea.

“What brings you here today Healer Hawthorne?” Narcissa asked the woman. A sense of excitement slithered through her.

“Lady Malfoy, I have asked you to call me Rachel.” The woman chided her.

“You have.” She said as Miffy appeared and placed a tea tray upon the marble coffee table. “And I have asked you to call me Narcissa.” She reminded the woman.

The woman laughed good-naturedly as Narcissa served the tea. “True.” She agreed. “Well, Narcissa, I have come with good news.”

Narcissa slowly sat her tea cup down upon the saucer and she felt her hands tremble as she placed them in her lap. “I’m pregnant.” She breathed out softly.

“Yes. You are pregnant.” Healer Hawthorne confirmed.

Narcissa felt the sting of tears and they fell over her cheeks before she could hold them back. “Oh. Oh thank you. Thank you.” She murmured.

The healer smiled as she sipped at her tea. “I have prescribed a regimen of potions that you will take during this pregnancy. And you must cease all social activities. No more balls and soirees until after you have safely recovered from a safe delivery.” Rachel explained.

Narcissa had not considered the fact that she might have to cease her socializing immediately, but she did not balk at the possibility. If it gained her a healthy child then it was a worthwhile sacrifice. “Very well.” She agreed.

“I think perhaps that you should enter into a confinement of sorts. You will be able to receive letters and visitors of close friends and family, but everything must be relaxing for you.” Hawthorne mused aloud. “As I understand it both your husband and your father-in-law conduct a great deal of their business from the Manor itself with their associates coming and going.”

“Yes, that is true.” Narcissa said as she sipped at her tea. “I sometimes am called upon to entertain their guests.”

Hawthorne nodded her head, she had thought as much. “Well, it would not do for you to be confined to the Manor then. You will need to enter confinement in another abode.”

Narcissa was silent as she thought of possible places. There were many fine properties and houses that the Malfoy family possessed but she knew that she would not feel comfortable at such places without the guarantee that Abraxas had ceased trying to rid his son of her. “I was granted a dower home in the wedding settlement. It is mine to do with as I wish. White Hall, it is called.” She informed Healer Hawthorne.

Hawthorne smiled. “Is it in good condition?” She asked of Narcissa.

“It is. Though it is not fully furnished. It is in need of furniture and those little decorating touches that would make it a home.” Narcissa admitted.

“Could furnishing White Hall be done swiftly?” Hawthorne asked of her. “Ideally, I would like you to enter confinement within the month.”

Narcissa nodded her head decisively. “Of course it can.” She said already contemplating just how she might decorate White Hall to her own satisfaction.

“Excellent.” Hawthorne proclaimed. “I will be staying with you at White Hall.” At Narcissa’s look of surprise the healer laughed lightly. “You hired me to take proper care of you.” She reminded Narcissa. That Narcissa had suffered six miscarriages went unvoiced but acknowledged between them nonetheless.

Narcissa smiled in gratitude. “Thank you.” She found herself once again saying to the woman. ‘Get used to it Cissa. You will no doubt be saying it quite often.’ She thought happily as she watched Healer Hawthorne arise.

“I’ll see myself out.” The healer said in her friendly way. “I hope to hear from you soon that White Hall is ready for habitation.”

“Of course.” Narcissa said as she too arose. She watched the healer leave with a smile curving her lips.