Shades of Silver and Black

CUSCO IN NOVEMBER CONTAINED MILD TEMPERATURES along with a few days of rain. Lyra and Lucius had arrived in Peru from Argentina a month ago and had finished unpacking with a literal wave of their wand. Their designated house until the peak of January was a large cottage --border lining villa-- that by the standards of the wealthy Blacks and Malfoys, could be considered modest at best.

Two meter thick blocks of green hedges composed of honeysuckle surrounded the one-acre property with a silver gate opening to a trail of pebbles guarded by pretty flowers growing on either side of it, leading to the wooden front door. Wild vines, money plants and cucumber plants tangled along the archway and climbed up the faded red bricks which were used to construct the cottage.

There was a pond near the cottage with lily pads floating on it along with ducks, frogs and the buzzes of bees. Surrounding this was a bed of flowers which lulled the butterflies towards them. The grass was green and yellow, scorched by the blazing sun. Trees littered the area-- large ones with hollow barks and red and yellow leaves, which were home to families of squirrels and woodpeckers. Occasionally, an owl would come and visit.

The simple exterior greatly complimented the interior of the cottage. This property, in particular, contained no fancy chandeliers nor was it decked with shades of silver and black and greens. Rather, it was decorated with warm, fiery colours of brown, gold and orange. Had Sirius or James visited, they would have laughed out loud that the Malfoys owned a place with Gryffindor colours.

The whole property was quite self-sufficient. Three house-elves were tasked to look after the whole estate and took care of the vast garden --more like a huge vegetable field, really-- and sold it in the local markets, keeping enough money that they needed to finance and take care of the estate and dutifully giving the rest to Lord Malfoy.

It was so different to the usual places that Lyra and Lucius stayed at and that was the primary reason they had chosen this comparatively small property owned by the Malfoys in Cusco instead of a mighty manor of the Blacks situated in Lima. The point of travelling was to gain a new experience, and this was it. Besides, Cusco was closer to Machu Picchu, and Lucius had been singing sonnets of it ever since they left Argentina and considering Lyra valued her fragile sanity, she had no choice but to cave.

Sunlight bled through the thin curtains which flew at the barest hint of wind, inviting the cool air in and making Lyra's lips curl upwards as the breeze gently caressed her cheeks, tightening her grip on the cup of hot chocolate.

"Fun fact," Lucius' started, sitting beside her on the sofa, "if you don't drink your hot chocolate soon enough, it will become cold chocolate."

Lyra rolled her eyes. "A very interesting piece of news there, love. I had absolutely no idea."

"I'm aware, life. Hence, why I chose to inform you of this."

"And I thought I wasn't good at being subtle," Lyra muttered under her breath before slowly inhaling the enchanting scent of hot chocolate and delicately taking a sip of it. The House Elves had made it nicely but it might be her bias speaking when she felt like it didn't taste as good as the one Regulus' favourite elf made back home. Setting it on the coaster placed at the wooden table before them, Lyra turned towards Lucius. "I need to go to London for a minute this weekend to pick up some documents regarding our stay in India in February. Would you like me to get anything for you?"

"I don't think so," Lucius stated before pausing, lips set into a straight line with concentration as his face brightened with an epiphany. "Actually, yes. Now that you mention it, I do need more hair gel. Mind buying some? My usual brand, of course."

"Wait." Lyra tilted her head, gazing at him thoughtfully as her fingers curled around the cup of hot chocolate once again. She took another sip of the hot chocolate, savouring the flavour before voicing, "If I remember correctly, I bought you a lifetime supply of hair gel three years ago. How could it have gotten over already?"

Lucius shrugged his shoulders. "You said it yourself, Lyra, that was three whole years ago."

Lyra eyes widened, bewilderment knitting into her features as she wearily looked at his platinum-blond hair. "How much hair gel do you use?!"

"A perfectly normal and necessary amount," Lucius defended.

Lyra awarded him with a flat stare. Then, setting the cup of hot chocolate on the coaster once more, she reached over and ran her fingers through his hair before commenting, "So that's the odd, tickling thing I would feel."

Given that the only times she touched his precious, neatly combed hair was when they were snogging, she would usually dismiss the sensation. But now, she had been disillusioned and her fingers were covered with goop. Making a face, Lyra wiped her fingers on his robes, ignoring his horrified exclaim of "Lyra!" and the protests he put up as he attempted to simultaneously smoothen down his hair and slap her hands away from his expensive, navy blue robes.

Connecting her eyes with his, Lyra stated with the utmost seriousness, "Lucius, honey, love of my life, I love you, and that is why I am going to be calling for an intervention. You need to stop with the hair gel, sweetheart, or at the very least, reduce it so it doesn't coat my fingers?"

Lucius' brows bunched up with confusion. "An intervention? Why ever would you do that? The only reason you would call an intervention if I had an obsession or addiction to my hair gel and I don't."

"Sure you don't." Lyra agreed in a tone that juxtaposed her acknowledgement.

"I'm serious."

"Now that's identity theft," she intoned with twinkling eyes before saying, "Besides, you claim to not have an addiction to hair gels—"

"I'm not claiming, I'm stating."

"—So you wouldn't mind proving it, would you?" Lyra finished smoothly.

Lucius' face appeared wary as he raised a pale eyebrow. But never one to back down, especially with respect to his fiancée, he inquired, "And how can I do that?"

"Simple. One week. You cannot use your hair gel for one whole week, seven full days. If you truly aren't obsessed with your hair gel, then you wouldn't mind taking part in this little challenge of mine."

Lucius' expression suggested that Lyra was demanding that he eat the hearts of his family's treasured white peacocks. "Lyra, what you are asking is beyond insane! It's preposterous!"

"What I'm asking for is completely within your capabilities! Lucius, it is not okay to drench your hair in gel. I'm saying that as a healer and as your fiancée."

"I don't drench my hair in gel," Lucius protested.

Lyra levelled him a bland look. "I'm sorry," she began, tone airy, "if drench is too harsh of a word for you. Would you prefer soak, submerge or drown?"

"I would prefer slightly layered," Lucius interjected with a narrowed gaze.

"It's your choice, love, but you are missing my point so let me frame my sentence in a manner in which you'll understand." Lyra theatrically cleared her throat before starting slowly, accentuating each word like she was speaking to a child, "Lucius, if you wish for me to ever run my fingers through your hair again, let alone kiss you, you will stop wearing your hair gel. At least for a week. Yes, that is an ultimatum and no, I am not kidding."

Lucius' eyes were wide as saucers as he looked at her like she had proclaimed that she was secretly a muggle. "Lyra, that is monstrous! Not even prisoners in Azkaban deserve such horrifyingly tragic treatment!" The concerning part was, he was being completely serious.

"So you accept that you and the love of your life cannot part ways then?" Lyra countered, lifting a dark, perfect brow.

Pride won over desire, previous declarations forgotten as the immense need to heal his fragile ego washed over him. "I accept your challenge," Lucius answered coolly instead. "And just you wait, I shall emerge victoriously."

Lyra directed a look of disbelief towards him. "We'll see about that. I bet two days, three at most."

Lucius huffed, folding his arms and leaning against the sofa. "Your lack of faith in me will eventually lead to your downfall."

Lyra simply smiled, clasping her now cold cup of hot chocolate. "I don't make bets that I know firsthand that I won't win. Similarly, I never lose, no matter what."

"Then, this instance will be your first."

"No, this instance will be just another victory," Lyra corrected, smiling over the brim of her cup. "I'm going to enjoy rubbing this over your face."

Lucius scoffed, smiling with a mocking tinge to it. "We'll see."

"Indeed we shall."

Three days later, Lucius' normally, flawlessly styled hair was only in the slightest disarray but to him, it felt like the world was collapsing. After having the foresight to lock the door to his bedroom at the cottage and apply a spell to stop eavesdroppers, Lucius began to pace up and down the length of his room.

The blazing head of a bored Dennis could be seen from the fireplace, appearing unperturbed by the sparks flying around and the flames licking his ears as he patiently waited for his friend to halt his steps.

Finally, Lucius stopped, slumping to the hardwood floors and leaning against his bed, an action that would have appalled others but served to show Dennis, who had grown up with Lucius and been his best friend, the true extent of Lucius' nerves.

"It can't be that bad," Dennis offered weakly even as he mentally thanked Lyra for calling Lucius' awful habit out. Morgana knew she was the only one who could do it --other than Lady Malfoy, of course-- without dire consequences or being on the receiving end of a few nasty curses.

"You're right, it's worse than I had assumed it would be." Lucius shut his eyes with pain. "I feel... I feel so odd. Exposed, in a sense." When he reopened them, he was stoney-faced sombre. "I can't do this."

"You have no choice, you have to do it," Dennis said softly. "It is your honour being called into question here."

"Considering the state of my hair at the moment, I will unhesitantly trade my honour, wealth, soul and my firstborn for a bottle of hair gel."

"I don't think Lyra would allow you to do that last bit," Dennis chirped thoughtfully before he shook his head. "No, Lucius, you can't give up! Come on, your royal hairgel-iness can live another four days without that goop you drench your hair with."

Lucius glared at him, saying hotly, "It is not goop, and I do not drench my hair with it!"

"Of course you don't." Dennis accepted instantaneously, not having the energy to debate with Lucius on this matter, before swiftly resuming to speak, "What I'm trying to say is, Lucius, you can't give up. You cannot concede your victory now, especially considering you are so close to the half-way point. Do you really want all the accusations that Lyra hurled at you to be rendered true?"

"If it means I get my hair gels back, I'm fine with her saying, 'I told you so' repeatedly to me."

"Have some dignity, man! It's for the greater good, Lucius!" Dennis objected, "This is bigger than you, bigger than mere hair gel."

Lucius tossed another glare at the flaming head of his friend. "Don't call it 'mere'."

"Sorry; this matter is bigger than your great hair gel. Better?"

"Could tone down the sarcasm but yes."

"The point is, Lyra has never lost a challenge or bet. Your victory here could be monumental and historical. The poets would sing praises of your valour and sacrifice in the future. And all you have to do is go one more day without your precious hair gel. Do you think you can do that?" Dennis questioned pointedly.

Lucius appeared to be deep in contemplation before he slowly said, "I think so."

Dennis nodded his glowing head in the fire-place with approval, a pleased smile gracing his face. "Good."

To his credit, Lucius was able to wait until the evening for the sound of Lyra's trademark diamond heels to click on the floors of the cottage, signalling that she had returned from a hard day at the hospital, to become prominent. Then, he jumped up to his feet and dashed out of his room and down the stairs. No sooner had Lucius entered the parlour than he announced to Lyra who stood below the archway, still donning her grey healer robes, "Lyra, I can't do this anymore."

Lyra looked serene at his confession. "That is alright."

"I need hair gel," Lucius insisted, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Okay. I'll buy some when I visit London tomorrow."

"You don't understand. It's more than hair gel to me. It's a part of my identity. Its essence is knitted into my very soul and— I'm sorry, did you just say 'okay'?"

Lyra kindly refrained from laughing at Lucius' baffled expression. "Yes. Like you said, wearing hair gel is part of your identity and it was cruel of me to attempt to take it away from you. I'm terribly sorry, Lucius, I hope you expect my sincere apologies."

Lucius paused, narrowing eyes laced with suspicion zeroing on her. "What do you want?"

Lyra tilted her head. "Pardon?"

"What did you do?" Lucius amended his previous question, squinting his eyes at her.

"Nothing."

"Uh-huh. Do you take me for a fool, Lyra? No, close your mouth, that was rhetorical, don't answer that. The point is, there is no way you would simply accept your horrendous decision. So, I ask again, what did you do, Lyra?"

Lyra's countenance turned sheepish, dimples being put on display. "Well, I was passing by the pet shop today after work and it suddenly occurred to me that since we've only brought our dear runespoor with us, it must be lonely and—"

"Oh no."

"—so I got them a friend! Or rather, three friends," she stepped towards the side, allowing him to view the two pairs of runespoors cuddling cosily on the sofa as they slumbered.

Projecting a false image of calmness outwards, Lucius started, "Life?"

"Yes, love?"

"Please, please tell me that they are returnable."

"They are but why on earth would we want to do that?" Lyra quizzed, genuinely confused. "I mean, look at the pretties!"

"Could you please not speak about highly dangerous, incredibly venomous snakes the same way you talk about your diamond heels?"

In response, Lyra stepped behind Lucius, sandwiching his face with her hands and directing it towards the snakes. Then, she rested her head on his shoulders. "But look at them, Lucius! Look at how cute they are together! Look at the pretties!"

"I have no choice but to look at them considering you are forcing my face in that direction," Lucius stated dryly.

A runespoor head woke up due to their noise, turning its head towards them and hissing. Lucius instantly froze and felt all the colour leave his face.

"Look at the pretties," Lyra whispered gleefully again.

The runespoor hissed again, more harshly this time.

Lucius attempted to shake his head but was restricted by Lyra's freakishly strong grip. "I don't want to look at the pretties."

"But they are so pretty!"

"You are pretty. They are scary. Make them go away, Lyra, I don't want to look at them. They look like they want to eat me!"

"Don't be silly, Lucius. I just fed them. They won't eat you, not now at least. Stop being dramatic."

"Oh, I'm being dramatic?"

"Yes, you are."

"Well then, do excuse me your highness for fearing for my life!"

"You are kindly excused for your poor behaviour, your royal hairgel-iness." Lyra grinned, using the term that Dennis had called Lucius with back in their fifth year.

The other runespoor awoke as well and joined the first one in hissing at Lucius. Fear began to consume him, trepidation threatening to overwhelm him and an alarm ringing loudly in his head as he screeched, "Lyra, they're hissing at me! They're going to kill me!"

"Don't be silly, love. As someone fluent in parseltongue, I can assure you that they are merely approving of you being a suitable mate for me." She paused for a heartbeat, adding, "Well, there was that one time when they initially gazed at you that they mistook you for a white peacock and wanted to eat you, but now they know better, don't worry."

"You can't tell me something like that and expect me to not worry!"

"I can and I did. So stop your theatrics, love. I promise they won't eat you."

"That isn't as reassuring as you think it is, considering that they can still bite me, harm me, nest in my hair and—"

"—nest in your hair?" Lyra echoed, laughing.

Lucius glared at her. "Stop laughing. I'm being serious."

"We've talked about this many times, love. You are not serious, you are Lucius, remember?"

"Oh, hush," Lucius stated with all the eloquence and fluidity of an eighteenth-century poet.

They were engulfed into a few minutes of silence with Lucius trying to calm his breathing as the snakes lulled themselves to sleep again. Lyra released her grip on his face before saying, "I keep the snakes, you buy your hair gels; we call this bet a tie and tell no one about anything that happened now?"

"Deal."

In a shadowed corner at the disreputable Hog's Head Inn on the last Hogsmead trip before the Yule holidays sat Narcissa Black. She stood out like a glaring neon among the other occupants of the shady inn with her bright, expensive dress and the casual elegance that she emitted. The constant glances at a clock stuck on a wall implied that she was impatiently awaiting someone while the slightly red hue that the table had been blanketed in showed that a muffling charm had been applied.

Finally, the silhouette of a tall figure made itself visible.

"Hello, Narcissa," Theodore greeted with faux pleasantness, proceeding to sit down.

"Hello, Theodore."

For the lapse of a few heartbeats, there was silence, both of them directing a scrutinising gaze at each other before Theodore broke it, half-smiling, "I remember the time Sirius nearly died. Lyra had been furious, and I swear I could see wildfires burning in her eyes. I had gotten afraid despite being innocent, I could only imagine what that first year must have felt," he mused aloud. "But in the end, he got what he deserved, didn't he? Levelled with a great fine and condemned to Azkaban for half his life, if I recall correctly. Lyra got her revenge against the person who harmed her little brother." Frost entered Theodore's eyes as he asked coolly, "Do you know why I'm telling you this, Narcissa?"

"Because you took a trip down memory lane and have no one else to share it with?"

"Funny," Theodore voiced humorlessly. He leaned forward, placing his arms on the table that separated them. "The last time someone almost killed a Slytherin's little brother, their life got ruined. I had to find out by a fucking letter one whole week after the incident occurred that Thomas --my baby brother-- had to literally be revived to life because of you. So, tell me, Narcissa, what do you think is going to happen to you?"

"Well, considering I didn't eat breakfast this morning, I reckon that I'll be quite hungry."

Theodore was unamused, the crinkles beside his eyes tightening. "You think this is all a joke, don't you? That since you are pureblood, the current Queen and a Black, you'll have no consequences. That since our families are close, since you are my fiancée's best friend, you falsely assume that you are immune to any sort of repercussions. Well, guess what" --he tossed his head back to laugh-- "that was my brother, you bitch. How dare you hurt him."

"I don't regret it," Narcissa tonelessly voiced, "and if, given the opportunity, I would have finished the task properly. He has lost his way. Despite being a member of the esteemed Court, he renounced it. He thought that he could do whatever he wanted, behave in any manner although it contradicted our ancient ways because he was untouchable. Your brother insulted me, insulted our teachings, our ancestors. I merely knocked the self-proclaimed invisible crown off his head, pushed him off the pedestal he had placed himself on and reminded him who he had to obey as long as he bore the emblem of the snake on his chest ."

"By almost killing him?"

"We've done it before and you know it," Narcissa stated calmly. "As the former King's second, you have personally nearly ended many lives yourself with the intentions of making them follow our ways without hesitation. Why is this incident any different?"

"Because he's my fucking brother!"

"You're looking at this view with bias. Look at it with the gaze of the Green Ruler's second and everything will be clear. Detach yourself."

"Like the way Lyra did when Sirius had to be shipped to the hospital? Now, now, Narcissa, that's showing partiality. If she's allowed leeway, why aren't I? If she can ruin the person who hurt her little brother, why can't I?"

"Because you're not looking at this rationally. Lyra allowed her emotions to guide her with that choice. This is your chance to be better than her."

Theodore laughed joylessly again. "I don't want to be better than her. I had, admittedly initially assumed that she had been overreacting but I now understand that she was absolutely correct to do what she did. In fact, I believe that she under-did it. She should have done worse to that ickle firstie. I don't want to go about this rationally. I can't see facts through all my fury and I don't want to. I want revenge and I will have it."

Narcissa leaned back, crossing her arms and eyeing him with cool indifference.

Theodore smirked at her reaction. "Don't worry, Narcissa. Lucius is like an older brother to me and Lyra is one of my closest friends. I am not going to involve them. I won't even involve the House of Black into this. No. My bone to pick is against you and you alone. You will be the only one to burn."

"You're a coward," was Narcissa's monotonous response.

Theodore's words might have held truth but not the entirety of it. The simple fact was that despite the awful words that were spilling from the lips of everyone about the House of Black these days, although talks of boycotting them and teaching them a lesson were being thrown around, none had the audacity to act on it because they couldn't survive without them.

Need quality potions? Dorea had you covered. Rare and endangered plants? Irma could give you anything with a word. Legal advice or help? Pollux ran the most successful law firm on the continent. Required fashion help, interior decoration assistance or jewellery? Lucretia and Druella ran an empire. Wished to buy artefacts or place the most powerful wards around your Manor? Alphard and Cassiopeia were only a letter away.

Their individual accomplishments were great but combined, they formed Stella under the leadership of Orion, the guidance of Arcturus while being flanked by Walburga and Melania and that combination was deadly.

The House of Black might have lost some of its political standing with its contradictory actions as of late, but their ruthlessness, achievements and power still held strong, despite what a few fools thought.

Theodore waged war against her before she could bring in her family and for that, Narcissa had to reluctantly commend his genius.

Not to mention, if word reached Lyra --something that all of them were trying their hardest not to do so they wouldn't dampen her happiness with their burdens-- then that would be a whole other matter entirely because Narcissa was sure that her cousin would throw away years worth of friendship without a single doubt for Narcissa.

But as much as Narcissa would appreciate that, she was capable of fighting her own battles and emerging victorious, this was an opportunity to prove her prowess to the world. That she could equate to something without the weight of her family behind her. That she could stand without the shadow of her family following her. And by hell or heaven, Morgana or Merlin, that was what she would do.

Theodore grinned at her accusation. "I am a coward," he agreed. "But you are going to be given a fate worse than death, sweet Narcissa."

Narcissa looked unfazed. "I stand by my opinion that my actions were appropriate --even you know it is. I am willing to supply the memory for you to view if you'd like, only because I don't want to encourage violence in a time when the death tolls are already rising. Like I stated earlier, considering the words your darling little brother spoke, my only regret is that I didn't actually kill him."

"Whether or not he deserves it is another matter," Theodore snapped. "Yes, he's stupid but he's still my brother at the end of the day and I simply cannot tolerate the magnitude of injuries that you paletted my brother with. My vendetta is with you and you alone. You shouldn't have done that, Narcissa, because now, I'm going to have to get even with you."

It was then, finally, did Narcissa display emotions, fearlessly smiling by baring her teeth in the same manner a predator does to its prey. "Go ahead then, try your best. I dare you. But I must warn you, Theodore, do not, for your sake, at least, start battles that you can't finish. You never know when the hunter becomes the hunted."

"I don't know that," Theodore acknowledged. "But I do know that you will pay for your offence."

"And I know that you will regret this later. I don't like repeating myself but as I said, Theodore, try your best. Good luck, you'll need it."

"Funny," Theodore intoned coldly. "I was about to tell you the same." He stood up, spinning around sharply, causing his dark robes to bellow out. Just as he was about to begin walking--

"Theodore,"

Theodore halted his steps but didn't face her. "What, Narcissa?"

"Cassandra..." Narcissa's voice softly started. "Is she taking any sides?"

Theodore pressed his lips together, although Narcissa couldn't see it, before answering, "No. Cassie's being neutral. I'm her fiancé, you're her best friend. She doesn't want to take sides and although I personally disagree with her decision, I respect it. I won't force her to choose if you don't."

"I won't," Narcissa assured, pausing. "I guess this is the end of our friendship, isn't it?"

"It is," Theodore confirmed, duplicating her detached tone before resuming his steps towards the door. He wrapped his fingers around the knob of the door, pulling it open. Then, before walking out, glanced at Narcissa from the corner of his eyes. She was still seated, gazing at him coolly with her golden hair --so much like Cassie's-- in a tight bun. Before he could stop himself, Theodore smiled a grimace. "Bye Cissa."

Narcissa smiled sadly and even though her voice was soft and quiet, the wind carried her whisper to his ears. "Goodbye, Theo."

Theodore walked out. Narcissa watched him go, constructing battle plans in her mind.