#alwaysconquer

     All night, everyone kept calling her Mrs Malfoy. It still sounded so strange, her name mashed together with someone else’s, almost like a game she didn’t quite understand. Narcissa Malfoy, it almost didn’t sound like a real name. She supposed she would get used to it eventually, hopefully sooner rather than later. It had been a beautiful wedding aesthetically, her mother had had a large hand in planning it. It had almost felt more like her wedding than Narcissa’s. She couldn’t recall a lot of the detail, she had not even picked her own dress. But what she could recall was the man who had stood beside her through it, the man who was placed there by his parents just like she was.

     She had survived the night by his side, mostly thanks to a glass of white wine she had kept firmly in her grasp all night long. Her mother had insisted upon white instead of red because it would look tacky somehow when compared to a bride all in white. She had recalled their first dance with fond memories, he was quite a good dancer, and she would admit it felt nice to have him hold her close like that. His arms and chest were strong and she secretly liked being pressed against him. She supposed that was a good thing, seeing as being married required her to spend quite a lot of time pressed against him if they were to have children.

     The thought of children faded from her mind as she stepped into Malfoy Manor, not for the first time but for the first time as someone who lived there. House elves had sent her things over earlier in the day so she had nothing with her other than the dress she wore, no longer her wedding dress but something simple that she had worn to the reception. She looked around, though she was familiar with the space around her. She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she was nervous. She highly doubted Lucius was a virgin, if rumors meant anything, but she certainly was. It was expected of women like her to be untouched when basically sold to their husbands by their fathers, so she wasn’t much sure how to go about all this. So she decided to leave it up to him. She knew she would have her own rooms here as he would have his own, but she assumed on nights they spent together she would share his.

     “I’ve never seen the upstairs of your house before” she said finally, looking up at the man beside her, her husband. “So I am afraid I don’t know where I’m going” she said. 

Rodolphus scowled at him. Liar. He was neither dumb nor naive, well aware of what was going on between Bella and Lucius, their secret meetings in broom closets and subtle but suggestive looks in the common room. Plus, Rabastan had seen them. Aggressively kissing. In an empty corridor. And he trusted his brother at least somewhat not to lie about such things. Rodolphus didn’t really have proof though, never having seen them himself. But he figured having a word with Lucius would resolve the misunderstanding.

Lucius knocked on the door of the bathroom, knowing exactly what Narcissa had gone to check. They had been trying for quite a while now and it was obvious the stress had gotten to her, resulting in a missed period. The signs pointed to pregnancy but Lucius had his doubts.

He looked at his wife with a sad expression as she opened the door, quickly stringing together that it failed to take once more. He brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s ok, Cissy,” he pulled her into a hug. “We’ll just keep trying.”

What if she couldn’t have a child? That was all that went through her mind, she was always taught that this was the most important thing to do. She was supposed to produce a male heir, and if she couldn’t do that at least a female heir. But to produce none at all would certainly be a problem. And for purebloods, many wouldn’t think twice about ending a marriage to get an heir.

“Lucius Malfoy,” he said with a smirk. “I’d offer you my hand but I wouldn’t want to get filth on it. Surely your pet, sorry, friend Severus has told you all about me.”

The petite ginger couldn’t help but roll her eyes -- she’d thought it was a bad idea when the McKinnon’s invited her to this ball. Pureblood balls were elitest and dull, but  this one was for Marlene’s sixteenth birthday. Best Lily could tell, it was more of an attempt to show eligible bachelors that she was ready to get married. 

But, the McKinnon’s had taken her in, and to refuse the invitation would be rude -- even if that meant that she had to deal with proper purebloods being right pricks to her. 

How Mollie ended up talking to Lucius Malfoy of all people even she wasn’t aware. How they started fighting was another thing, at least they weren’t at St Mungo’s anymore. Great spirits her boss would have her head! She was going up against a pureblood, a rich pureblood, a rich pureblood who sometimes donates to her workplace to get good street cred.

Hogwarts wasn’t what he expected at all- he was used to the idea of going to Beauxbatons with their flashy magic, periwinkle robes, and required dance classes. 

When he managed to get into Slytherin, (not that he fully understood why houses mattered ) just as Lusamine was urging him too he was able to share a secret smile with her. 

Finally, they can share something again. 

A few weeks into his stay he suddenly realized that nothing had really changed at all. He was still alone, none of his classmates seemed interested in talking to him... ( Was it because of his thick accent? ) Unlike being alone in the mansion with house elves to call upon for company or the muggle books and toys to play with he only had Lusamine and his school work. He was tired of work and he desperately wanted to talk to his sister but she was always busy. 

@alwaysconquer

     She sighed softly as she watched her son climb onto the train to Hogwarts, feeling so old suddenly. When did he get old enough to go to Hogwarts? Where had the last 11 years gone? It seemed like only yesterday that he was born, only yesterday that his presence in this world had brought her closer to her husband, only yesterday that they had really become a family. 

     She leaned slightly into her husband that stood beside her, though not too much, since the two never showed too much affection in public. It wouldn’t be proper, wouldn’t be good for their reputation to be seen hanging on each other. But subtle things here and there, leaning on him in a tender moment, holding hands when one was leading the other somewhere, perhaps even a kiss on the cheek-all was fine. But at home she had decided barley ever to keep her hands to herself anymore.