NARCISSA NETWORK

“There comes a time in your life when you have to choose to turn the page, write another book or simply close it.”

― Shannon L. Alder

If anything, Narcissa is grateful she’s able to continue being a Black during the entirety of her school years. She’s grateful for her future husband wildly older than her. She’s grateful for the comfort and stability of being married into the Malfoy family. She’s grateful for the prestige and honor of the Malfoy family. She’s grateful that her husband already has political influence and will take her out and show her off at fancy events. She’s grateful that her life won’t change too much. Narcissa’s grateful for a lot of things.

Though, Narcissa knows that she should be grateful for more. She should be grateful that she will never have to worry about work. She should be grateful that she’ll be able to raise a child with the schooling they will need and the support to give him or her. She should be grateful that her husband and their family will protect her from the war. Narcissa knows that the Malfoy family will treat her right and that she should be grateful for many things because of them, but Narcissa knows she can’t.

Narcissa isn’t grateful for marriage and safety and the lack of work she’ll have to do. She’s ungrateful, something nobody will know because it’s unbecoming. It’s unbecoming of a wife of the Malfoy family. It’s unbecoming of the daughter of the Black family. It’s unbecoming of a girl.

She’s doing her own makeup, not trusting Bellatrix to do it and is unable to get Andromeda to do it. The three Black Sisters一no two and a traitorーpromised each other to do their makeup at each others wedding. The traitor promised to do Narcissa’s makeup as long as Narcissa wouldn’t let Bellatrix do the traitor’s makeup. 

Narcissa’s sitting in her wedding dress. It’s ivory, the official color of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. The dress has beadwork carefully placed in specific places. It’s to make the more masculine-featured Narcissa appear more feminine, more of a Malfoy.

She stares at herself in the mirror. Narcissa pushed away the witches of her wedding party. The Slytherin girls from her dorm, alongside Bellatrix as the head of her wedding party, make up her section of the wedding party. It’s certainly bigger than Bellatrix’s wedding party, but Narcissa doesn’t know if it’s bigger than the traitor’s. She wouldn’t go to the traitor’s wedding.

She knows her cousins, both of them, are in Lucius’ wedding party. It was Narcissa’s request. She wanted this wedding to revolve around family. 

Narcissa’s always cared about family. She’s been raised to care about family. She knows that it’s her job to keep the family in line, as the eventual Lady of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. 

Narcissa knows that most pureblood families fail at keeping the entire family entact. She knows that at least one member per generation defects, becomes a traitor. It happened to both Lucius’ and Narcissa’ respective sisters. Narcissa can’t bring herself to speak of their names, they are family failures. 

“Narcissa,” the harsh voice of her sister, her only sister now, breaks Narcissa from her thoughts. Bellatrix’s voice rings throughout the room, “are you ready?”

Narcissa draps the heavy, velvet silver robe over her dress. The robe is left with the hood off and the front open, in order to show off the wealth associated with the Malfoys.

She leaves the room, the only noise to be heard is the subtle clacking of her silver heels and the response she gives, “Yes, I’m ready.”

Bellatrix closes the door and Narcissa can see glimpses of her wedding party before it’s finally shut. Bellatrix asks, “Are you certain?” It’s softer than Narcissa’s ever heard, but she reasons it’s because of the traitor. The traitor drove a rift between the Black SistersーNarcissa and Bellatrix on one side and the other, the middle, the glue on the other end of the chasm.

“I’m certain, Bellatrix.” Narcissa answers, “Let’s just get this thing over with.”

There is no hug, no outstretched hand, no calming words. Narcissa is surprised to see that there is a question, a clarification of if she’s okay. But Bellatrix took her word for it and Narcissa knows that Bellatrix knows that she isn’t okay. But she lets her go on with the wedding, obviously upset. Narcissa wants the traitor here. She’s always been closer to the traitor, she’s always looked up to the traitor. 

Even now, as an adult, she wants the traitor, the sister who left her here to rot in a marriage she doesn’t want. The traitor knows that Narcissa’s going to be stifled and dragged along on a path she doesn’t want to be on. The traitor knows that all three of the sisters were going to be forced in that life, but that they would’ve done it together. All three sisters knew that it would happen. If only the traitor didn’t leave them, none of this wouldn’t be as unbearable as it is.

Bellatrix opens the door and she can see the witches of the wedding party dressed in dark grey, almost black, dress robes. There are four girls waiting, but Emma Vanity is the only one that Narcissa can stand. She knows that Lucius is facing the same number of boys, men Narcissa can’t stand. Her cousins and three of Lucius’ fellow Death Eaters.

Narcissa is angry that half of her wedding party are Death Eaters or Death Eaters to be. She’s angry at the festivities of it all. She’s angry that she has no choice. She’s angry at the traitor for leaving. 

Narcissa gives a light smile, a smile made for politics from the mind of a girl who would thrive in politics. She gives the smile from a girl who would never be able to join politics. She gives her rehearsed smile and tells the witches, “Let the ceremony begin.”

Narcissa has her wand in a compartment of her robe. She needs it nearby. It’s a crutch, one of the things that she can bring over from her past.

Narcissa spots her husband to be’s wedding party, the boys escorting her girls. She also sees Walburga, her aunt.

The music suddenly decrescendos, she can barely hear it now. That's their cue that the wedding party should start to walk down the aisle.

Narcissa can see the grand doors open. She can see into the black walled room. She can see her husband on the other end, waiting for her.

Regulus goes first, grabbing the hand of Matilda Bulstrode. Matilda’s husband and Regulus’ eventual wife are both sitting in that room. Narcissa remembers having to walk down the aisle with Lucius’ at her sister’s wedding, just like Regulus will do at Sirius’ wedding.

Sirius goes down the aisle next, holding the hand of Peony Sorenson. Sirius loves the attention, but Narcissa can see the confliction in his eyes. It’s easy to tell he doesn’t want to be here; he knows he’s next. His emotions are easy to read and she hopes it won’t distract the viewers from her big day. If she’s putting on this spectacle then she can’t have anything go wrong.

Then it’s Rabastan LeStrange and Euphemia Rowle walking down. Both of their spouses are there, watching them. Narcissa makes a note to speak to Rita, making sure she knows what she can and cannot put into her Daily Prophet article.

Barty Crouch Jr. and Emma Vanity go down together. Narcissa placed them this way because they’re both Quidditch minded and already know each other. They’re the two Narcissa likes the most in this wedding party, besides her sister. It’s evident that they actually get along, instead of the faux chemistry the other pairs in front of them give.

Before Narcissa and Walburga can walk, it’s Bellatrix and Rodolphus LeStrange’s turn. It’s the only true couple walking down. The spouses look good together. Both of them curled a part of their hairs. Lord and Lady LeStrange look respectable, commanding power at an event not for the two of them.

Finally, it’s Narcissa’s turn. The music swells louder than it’s ever been as she steps out. The narcissa leaves fall as she opted to put peacock feathers in her hair instead of the flowers like she’s always planned. The white, slightly yellow at the tip, petals fall towards the floor. A spell makes sure that they don’t hit anybody and Narcissa is grateful because she can see everyone around her.

Once she makes it towards the end of the aisle, Walburga leaves her side, signifying that she’s no longer a part of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

Lucius stretches his hand and she takes it, as she has every time in the wedding rehearsals. The music doesn’t stop, but it’s barely there. Lucius and Narcissa each grab each other’s left hands, using their right to cut across the other’s palm. They recite, as all purebloods do, “ And with this bloodshed, we are one, we are equal, we are together.”

The blood drops into a vial, blending. Silver displays of their magic intertwine the pair. Narcissa stares into Lucius’ eyes as he squeezes her hand, their symbol since childhood that they’re in this together. Narcissa will pass this on to their children and her children will pass it onto their children.

Once the display dies down, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy walk hand in hand to the dining hall. Their ten person wedding party follows, leading everyone else to follow the pair.

The future patriarch and matriarch of the Malfoy Family are seated first, but stand until everybody files in. The Sacred Twenty-Eight, both the Black Family and the Malfoy Family’s international allies, every prominent Death Eater, surviving descendants of the ancient houses and the noble houses, alongside select people globally are in attendance. This is supposed to be the event of the summer.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus get a turn, toasting the young couple. They recount the story of the new Malfoy pair at their wedding, years ago. Narcissa laughs, she can’t believe how long it’s been. It's her first genuine smile, and the first time she squeezes Lucius' hand, as his wife.

Narcissa knew, the day of Bellatrix’s wedding, that she’d be marrying Lucius. Months prior, Walburga and Cygnus, her aunt and father, met up with the Malfoy pair. Back then, she’d play with Lucius and the Malfoy traitor, the Black Traitor would be with them too.

Instead of dwelling on the sadness of both her and Lucius’ sisters, she stands, alongside her husband. They announce, “Let the feast begin!”

House Elves, hundreds of them, deliver the first course: L'Aperitif. Narcissa would’ve opted for a shorter affair, but the Malfoys are incessant of the seven course, french style dining experience.

Luckily for her, before she knows it, they’re on the second course. The Hor D'oeuvres served are Miso or Consomme Soup. Narcissa hears the conversations happening. She spots her aunt Walburga chatting with the Flint Family. She can’t hear their conversation, but she can only assume it’s about Sirius’ wedding. He’ll be next in the Black Family for nuptials.

Her husband holds her hand throughout the entirety of the fish course, which is replaced with sushi. This’ll be something she will miss at the Malfoy Estate. Every time she’s eaten there, or had a meal planned by the Malfoy family, it’s all been french food. Narcissa knows she’s supposed to continue the tradition, raise the next Malfoys with their french heritage, forgoing her own japanese roots. She’s not happy about it, but knows she has to. Narcissa can’t end up like the traitors. She can’t leave this life when she’s already committed so much to it.

It’s time for the fourth course, the halfway point in the meal. The main course will take the longest, forty-five minutes minimum. Served is Japanese Duck à l'Orange with a side of Terrine. Narcissa’s pleased at the compromise she was able to reach with her father-in-law, regarding the meal as a whole.

For the fifth course, Narcissa eats it on autopilot, watching the flower decorations she hand prepared for every table. One hundred charmed cherry blossoms rest around snow white narcissas. She doesn’t pay attention to the taste of the salad. All she really cares about is how her life, her family, her everything, is changing and it’s out of her control.

The sixth course, the cheese course, is a fast one, like the course prior. Lucius talks to Rodolphus, his Best Man, and Narcissa knows she should talk to Bellatrix, so she doesn’t look ignored, but she keeps the soft smile on her face, like she’s supposed to do.

The last course, the dessert course, is Chocolate Gateau. Unlike the courses prior, Lucius and Narcissa symbolically cut the cake for the wedding party. Then, the trays come out for the other guests from House Elves. She eats her slice. All other courses prior she didn’t eat the entire plate in order to finish this one.

Bellatrix stands once the course is over. Her standing silences the entire five hundred plus wedding party. She says, “Now then, let us hear some words from out lovely wedded pair, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy!”

Narcissa doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to being Mrs. Malfoy as she hears her husband speaking, “Thank you all for coming. My wife and I proclaim our sincerest gratitudes. We are lucky for the Sacred Twenty-Eight for attending as well as many Ancient and Noble houses. Alongside that, various of you internationally have gathered here to share this special day with us. I don’t want to keep you all seated for much longer, so I’ll let my wife say what she has to say.”

Narcissa didn’t prepare a speech, but ever the quick witted girl, she’s able to act like she has, “I am eternally grateful for the Malfoy family for bringing me in as if I was one of their own. I am thankful for the Black family for raising me. And finally, I am blessed to be surrounded by all of you here for me and my husband.”

She sits down as the crowd claps. In all honesty, Narcissa wants the day to be over as fast as possible. She’s not here out of free will and she’s waiting for the honeymoon to happen already; Lucius has promised her an entire month back in Wizarding Japan as a farewell to her culture then a month in Wizarding France.

Lucius takes her hand, leading her through an elaborate dance. The wedding party encircles them as hired help set the mood with a display of magic above them. It looks as if it’s snowing stars around the six dancing pairs.

As the song ends, more and more people start to dance. Narcissa is forced to dance upwards of three hours after eating with everyone who asks. She’s supposed to be a hospitable pureblood wife. It’s what she was made to be.

By the time Narcissa’s feet start killing her, she’s able to sit and speak to Rita Skeeter, the writer for their wedding’s Daily Prophet article.

“Narcissa,” the blonde girl turns towards her with a smile on her face, “how can I help you?”

There isn’t a formal greeting, most likely because Rita’s never respected Narcissa a day in her life. She’s in a shapeless green satin dress, but Narcissa thanks the little victories that it isn’t neon lime.

“I wanted to discuss the article that you are to be writing.” 

“I shall be sending it through Lady Malfoy for review.” Rita stands, trying to leave, “Now if you excuse me.”

“No.” Narcissa replies, grabbing her arm, “I want you to send the letter to me.”

“Are you the one paying me?”

“It is my wedding and you’ll do as I say. You forget how pureblood politics work, don’t you, Rita?”

She yanks her hand, “Whatever you say Mrs. Malfoy.”