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He wasn’t giving them a chance. With every move his words grew harsher, more dissociated from the girl he claimed to love to distraction. She wasn’t benumbed; of course she had never ventured a doubt about his devotion toward her – each look he had shown her in the past, each ever so affectionate caress he had given her during that stormy night on Christmas Day. Those were proofs of his profound love. Only a fool would question the sincerity behind the stone-grey eyes of the man once they fell upon the cerulean ones of the blonde beauty.
And still, she was so incredibly hurt, that she could’ve easily insulted him for another hour, doubting his love and offending the man in every possible way. Once their lips crashed in an excruciating case of perfection, the two of them vented their spleen ever so briefly in a bitter kiss. While her innermost thoughts begged for more, for forgiveness, for the boy to adapt to his usual tender gaze, simply shrugging off the matter and insuring his love to her once again, two alerting hands arose and gave him a firm nudge in an attempt to push him off her. However, the boy shrunk back momentarily, a maintaining look of disgust adhered on his face.
Bewildered, Narcissa was out of her depth to cope with his contending feelings. She comported herself as if neither the kiss nor his mismatching look of aversion had affected her in any way, focusing on his speech that cried out for hypocrisy. Hadn’t he been the first to request her virginity? Hadn’t he been the part of their relationship that constantly growled for more than just the occasional snog? And all of this while Narcissa’s svelte finger was yet devoid of his ring.
“Of course I know the odious world we live in just as well as you do. But that doesn’t mean that we have to adapt ourselves to these standards. I could never help but cherish the way you treated me – while I was and still am plainly said naught but your property.” She spoke with a tranquillity that even baffled her very self. While her tears were still just as eager as to find release, her body was not up for another exertion. The sharp pain of her palm was still present, the blood mingled with sweat, staining the once so scintillating emblem of their doting love. Perhaps it’s not worth all the fighting. He gave up on you too. “Merlin, I was so convinced of my luck that I even lost touch with reality – and crashed pitilessly. It makes me sick to ask for your mercy. Go, owl your father. Tell him that you want a new bride. Live up to your name. But you’re not who I thought you were.”
With every word Lucius spoke, his heart was screaming the opposite. You love her, his thoughts were continually reminding him, though as he felt her hands push him away from their heart-wrenching kiss it didn’t appear to matter, not to either of them. No, love had been but a formality of both of their actions, and though he didn’t doubt the power of their connection for a moment, it appeared in that moment to be far too frayed to hold them together.
Her words once again reminded him of the severity of what he’d just done, the bond he’d just broken, with what appeared to be little hope of recovery. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t visualize himself with another woman - not even for a mere moment, and surely not for the rest of his life. Then again, what other choice did he have? Even if through time he found himself able to forgive Narcissa, to hold onto the shreds of what they once had, who was he to say that she’d feel the same? He had been the first to break the bonds of fidelity, and while she was begging for his forgiveness, he was still awaiting hers. Both had unfinished business with one another, both were unwilling to put their pride aside and focus on the unadulterated love that faintly lingered in the air between them.
“What choice do we have?” Lucius protested, not entirely sure what he was begging for - perhaps for another chance, perhaps for her to turn away and never look back. ”We don’t just live in this world, Narcissa, we are this world. Do you think there weren’t plans for us? You know just as well as I do what’s expected of us. These standards we’re faced with aren’t a choice, they’re fact.” A deep sigh escaped his lips. ”However, it appears as if some actions are strong enough to break even the very obligation we hold to our families. I suppose I’ll be owling my father at once, I’m sure he has a line of women picked out for me.” He made all attempts to keep his eyes locked with hers, the ice blue eyes that were still biting back tears. He couldn’t imagine for a moment gazing into any other pair and feeling anything, anything other than a complete void of emotion and a reminiscence of what he’d lost, what he’d thrown away. Another bride was the last thing the man wanted; should he marry another girl, not a day would pass by that he’d open his eyes in the morning without silently wishing that she was the youngest Black rather than Abraxas’s second choice. Spending the rest of his life alone, without love, sounded far more appealing than the thought of living a day with the realization that he’d allowed his pride and hypocrisy to toss away his only chance at happiness.
(Source: pureblood-lucius)
Lucy chuckled and nodded. “Yes, it is. I’ve always been this way. Win at all costs unless it risks someone’s safety of course. Is this attitude too surprising to see from a Gryffindor? We’re all pretty competitive,” she added with an affirmative nod. Oh yes. Especially when it came to Quidditch. James, Sirius, Frank, and her would always show off during practice which would encourage the others to roll their eyes. Lucy didn’t consider her confidence a bad trait so she wanted to know why he was raising an eyebrow. Hmm… Maybe he considered it abnormal for a Gryffindor to do such a thing? Well some Gryffindors like Karoonda were feisty; however, she was only feisty when it was necessary.
As her eyes wandered from the window and over to Lucius who seemed to be finally settling (or was that Lucy’s imagination? We’ll never know).
She laughed as he smirked and shook her head. She laughed as if she had been with Sirius or James. Truly laughing. Truly laughing with a Slytherin, with Malfoy. This was strange. This morning, she had never expected or dreamt of speaking to the boy but perhaps fate had other plans for her? Perhaps they did. Who knew anyway? She smiled as he admitted that he too exclaimed that it was nice to get to know someone new. See, not all Slytherins were bad or dark or evil as many other housemates thought. Silence slowly fell in between the two.
“So, do you have any hobbies?” she asked breaking the silence and tension casually, before laughing at her own question. “Sorry, I know its a silly question.”
Lucius nodded with strange surprise. There was a foreign idea - that he’d actually find himself, the proudest of all the Serpents that resided within the castle’s walls, finding common grounds with a Gryffindor girl. On any other day, the thought alone would have made Lucius Malfoy shudder, and he surely wouldn’t have even considered the action. But then again, Lucius hadn’t been in a proper state of mind for weeks. If his thoughts weren’t wrapped up in the aftermath of the first task of the tournament, they were on Narcissa - the night they’d spent with their bodies entangled with one another, the possibility that the was with his child, and perhaps most prominently the looming suggestion that perhaps the Black girl wasn’t as much as a virgin as she’d claimed.
For some strange reason, he almost found himself put at ease by the conversation, by the simple thought of engaging with someone that didn’t know the inner workings of his life and circles like so many Slytherins did. Yes, he blamed his temporary insanity as the primary cause, because had he been in his proper state of mind he likely would’ve walked away the second he found a shred of enjoyment in the encounter.
“Rather unexpected, I suppose,” he suggested with a light chuckle. ”Truthfully my only real encounters with Gryffindors have involved me shaking my head at Potter and his incessant friends, so to discover we share such a prominent trait is surely a pleasant surprise.”
He allowed the silence to settle between them, a silence he usually would have been quite comfortable with. Lucius was truthfully a man of few words unless he had a point he felt he needed to make, though he was getting the feeling that this Lucy girl was quite different. A small chuckle escaped his lips. He was a man of reputation, and he hardly thought that responding with ‘just secretly studying the Dark Arts after hours’ would help that in her eyes. ”I can’t say I’m a man of many hobbies,” he remarked with a light laugh. ”Though what about yourself? Quidditch can’t be the only thing that helps get you out of bed in the morning.”
| ◥ |  | Anonymous ASKED |
You can’t be serious, can you? Three men? For Salazar’s sake…
F: If I must, Aleksi. No one can deny that the man’s intriguing.
M: Regulus, I suppose. He appears to be the one Black still in their right mind.
K: Frank. Merlin, Frank. I’d likely take far too much satisfaction in this.
| ◥ | | Anonymous ASKED |
F: Hestia.
M: Lucy, I suppose. The girl seems nice enough, and my parents could lkely approve.
K: Alecto, in as vicious of a way as possible.
Hugs weren’t a popular medium at home. Nor were kisses on the cheek or those moments made popular in novels. This idea of a perfect little moment was odd; mother and child laying on his bed while she held one edge of the book, the kid holding the other, reading together while she offered small smiles while he stumbled from one word to the next. It was all the equivalent of some sort of fantasy land. Like the idea of walking across rainbows and falling to sleep inside clouds like large, massive pillows. Ridiculous, absurd, and strange ideas they made, ones that were consistently out of Aleksi’s reach. Family life was never built to be pretty. It wasn’t there to make a warm and fuzzy feeling echo in the soul. It was there for structure. To provide semblance of expectations within the frame work. He didn’t understand why the concept seemed so utterly foreign.
If someone had walked into the room, they would have had to marvel at how they seemed to form the perfect picture of pureblood gentlemen. They sat in their high-backed chairs, illuminated by the flickering of the fire but not much else. They were well dressed, even in the night. They drank quietly from their glasses and shared conversation back and forth. There was no impropriety or petty bickering. It was a display of class that Aleksi would reserve for men who had grown up around it; molded like their fathers to be just that way.
As the problems were lay to rest in the air between them, Aleksi looked down into his glass of wine, observing the deep color with a trained eye. He adjusted the way he sat, letting both arms relax on the rests while one leg shifted up to rest his ankle on his knee. The pad of his thumb lightly rubbed against the side of the glass for a moment as his thoughts lay themselves out into words. “You haven’t asked for my opinion, but I’m afraid that I’m a rather arrogant man, and will offer it anyway.” He glanced at Lucius, the hints of a smile playing across his lips. “This woman sounds extraordinarily unappreciative.” He took a long drink of wine, enjoying the taste as he filled his mouth.
Lucius could begin to feel the alcohol taking its effect on the blood flowing through his veins. The flickering of the fire appeared far too entrancing, his eyes strangely captivated by the dancing flames in a way that he never would have found in the company of sobriety. It wasn’t that the man had a low tolerance; in fact, he’d always prided himself on being completely in control at all times, holding himself above all inebriating substances. However, every time his lips didn’t find themselves speaking or drawing breath, the crystal glass managed to find its way to them, spilling its contents down his throat. Every word Aleksi spoke rung twice, at the least, in his ears, his eyes still mesmerized by the jumping flames before him, cocking his head to the side and absently swirling the contents of his glass as he allowed the fire to engulf his mind, engulf his thoughts, if only for a mere moment.
However, he felt he had little to worry about. He was in the presence of a man that appeared to be an equal, a man he would feel no shame in crossing the bridge of intoxication with. Besides, though he could feel the beginnings of slurred words begin to hit him, he thanked his stars that he’d never been a sloppy drunk. No, oftentimes when alcohol would take its toll on the man, however rare those occasions were, it would do nothing but bring out honesty, perhaps honesty that was even more brutal than the blunt, condescending words he uttered day by day. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he nodded understandingly. ”Then I believe the hat has surely placed you in the right house,” he replied, smirking lightly over at the man. While most frowned upon the stereotypical Slytherin arrogance that Lucius, as well as a majority of his housemates, carried everywhere they went, the Malfoy man saw no issues with it. It wasn’t as if a bit of conceit was uncalled for, taking their noble lineages and pristine mannerisms into consideration.
Nodding again, Lucius took another small sip from his glass. ”I couldn’t agree more,” he breathed. Yes, he’d been the original one to cross the girl by finding release in Alecto, but the second she’d dragged a confession out of his lips he’d promised to spend his days making it up to her. Little had he known that, according to rumour, she’d already evened the score. ”It’s as if she doesn’t know what she’s throwing away,” he scoffed arrogantly, his head shaking slightly. ”I’m supposed to one day marry her, to provide her with children one day, and from what I’m gathering I believe it’s safe to assume she’s gone and thrown her precious virginity away, and to a woman no less.”
(Source: pureblood-lucius)
She was contemplating the ending of what was supposed to become her glorious future one day, and she wasn’t even chancing it to rescue what was falling apart right in front of her eyes. Truthfully, the girl couldn’t bring up the strength any longer, everything seemed to make matters worse – whether it was that she apologized, or yelled, or simply didn’t say anything at all. She only had apologies to offer, she wasn’t capable of the power to turn back the clock and save their very relationship. All she’d left was her ardent love, and he shamelessly told her that this wasn’t sufficient.
The numb man in front of her scared her doubtlessly – she knew that they both shared the tendency to breathtaking arrogance, which clearly made the two of them so wickedly alluring as a couple. She wasn’t bothering that his behaviour was thoroughly repulsive at times, knowing that all of his loving gazes only belonged to one girl, her very self. She knew about his most peculiar quirks, she had the proof that the man definitely possessed the ability of loving someone profoundly. However, all of this was indifferent now – with a gaze far from loving, he stared down at his former girlfriend, his nose wrinkled in a hint of disgust.
“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t think that you love me.” Folding her arms with discomfort, she tried her best not to rise to provocation of his sudden spite against her. In vain. “Merlin, do you even see yourself right now? Are you even capable of feeling anything?” Hissing, an angry hand wandered up her neck, tearing off the necklace he bestowed her as a Christmas gift. Naturally, she was utterly ignorant of the real story behind the piece of jewellery. Outbursts like that didn’t resemble Narcissa’s usual state of mind; so far, she had only suffered of a few rather harmless ones. She doubted that he ever happened to perceive one of them; however, he now held the title of honourable man who truly managed to throw Narcissa Black off her course. “I made a mistake! Just like you did! Of course I doubted your love after you betrayed me. But if you ever truthfully loved me as much as I love you, you’d realize that we’re fucking equal.”
A snarl escaped her as she felt a jolt of pain rushing through her palm, in her blind anger, Narcissa had clenched her hands to fists, one of them still clutching the necklace. The snake-shaped pendant bore through the skin of her palm, instantly slitting it open. Nevertheless Narcissa didn’t let go of it, her hands forming back to loose fists, although she was having quite a hard time to suppress a groan. “Right, my future is none of your concern. It’s as easy as that for you, isn’t it? You know that my mother’s going to kill me. She’s never been very prude when it came to beating the crap out of her daughters. Although, if you intend to let your father know about my infidelity – yours is indifferent, of course – I doubt she’ll even bother using the Cruciatus Curse on me. One spell does it.”
Lucius’s signature pride had given him a hard enough time admitting he was wrong to begin with, barely allowing to claim the blame that so obviously belonged to him and his infidelity. He’d tried to justify his actions, at least in his mind. He was Lucius Malfoy, he was entitled to whatever and whoever he wanted, simply as a birthright. However, the tattered shred of a conscience he possessed somewhere within his icy core had fought against what his arrogance willed to believe, urging him to take the responsibility for breaking their relationship to shards that appeared nearly beyond repair. He’d taken that blame once, when Narcissa had finally dragged it out of him, though all along in the fragments of a heart he held he’d known he was accountable, that he should have seen their separation coming. It was he who had gone against her, the only woman he’d ever found himself able to even think the word ‘love’ in regards to, never mind speak it out loud. He was at fault, and while he knew he wasn’t a noble enough of a man to deserve an epitome of perfection like Narcissa Black, he wanted nothing more than for her to have the strength to keep trying, to work to forgive him just as hard as he’d work to make the rest of their lives up to her.
His love for her hadn’t died, not for a moment. In fact, it had done nothing but reaffirm itself over the holidays, and even as he stood there with anger pulsating through every vein, he couldn’t deny that he loved her, likely more than he’d ever love again. If he ever loved again. The part of him hiding somewhere deep, the part that held all sentiments close, begged strongly for him to be the better man, the man that could forgive in the way he’d previously begged for his own forgiveness, but his pride would not allow it. Lucius Malfoy was crossed by no one, especially not Alecto Carrow, nor Narcissa Black. His heart broke into more fragmented shards with every sharp word he spoke, cutting him just as deeply as he knew they cut the girl in front of him. No matter how badly his heart wished to just start over, forget both of their indiscretions, his mind couldn’t agree. He could now see why she hadn’t been so quick to forgive him, to claim that their love was enough to get them by, that with each passing day they could grow closer to finding the trust and happiness they once had. Yes, it was easy to ask when he was the guilty party, the party that didn’t have to look into the eyes of a cheater, someone who claimed to love the other undoubtedly yet still sought comfort, no matter how primal, in the arms of a Carrow. But now that he was on the other side, now that he was the one holding the power to forgive between his fingers, it wasn’t the simple choice he’d once viewed it to be. It was a never ending battle between his heart and his pride, his love and his hypocrisy, and while his unending adoration for the girl fought hard and strong, the hurt and mistrust still won.
Anger continued to claim every inch of the man’s body, teeth clenching with every word of doubt she voiced. ”You don’t think I love you?” he growled again, taking powerful steps towards the girl and taking her face in angry hands. Forcefully, passionately, his lips claimed hers, crashing against her soft counterpart, muddled with the salty taste of blood. In that moment she was his. His, not Alecto’s. Alecto.. Just like that, images of her came flooding back to his mind; how not too long ago it had been the devious brunette on the other end of his lips, and how a short time after the Carrow girl had claimed the same position with Narcissa. Instantly he pulled back, disgusted with himself, disgusted with her, realizing just where both of their mouths had been, the she-devil that was the link to both of their infidelities. Deep breaths moved in and out of his gaped mouth as he stared at her in silence, working up the courage for words once more. ”I love you with everything I have, everything I am,” he growled, angered even more by the fact that she dared question him after all they’d been through, after he’d proved to her that the stone cold stature that was Lucius Malfoy could feel things for those other than himself, namely for her.
He paused again, taking in every word she thought to utter. ”Equal?” he questioned. ”That’s what this was all about then? Becoming equals? I suppose we are, Narcissa. We’ve been equally traitorous, equally heartbroken, equally scorned. You can’t look me in the eye right now and tell me you expect my immediate forgiveness, because we are equals. You know damn well how this very fucking situation feels, and you did nothing but walk away. Do you really expect me to just forgive? If you couldn’t do it, what in Salazar’s name makes you think I can?” His teeth clenched angrily once more, eyes narrowing at the girl. ”If it does come down to it then yes, my indiscretion is indifferent. Perhaps not to you, and surely not to me, but to my father? Absolutely. I’m a man, Narcissa, it’s as if you’re forgetting the very world we come from. I’m not the one expected to hold everything off until the day I’m practically sold to another family. In the eyes of my father, I’m free to claim whatever I wish, while our society states nothing for you other than abstaining, then bearing children. Who do you think will be frowned upon between the two of us, hmm?” It was an atrocious double standard, but one he knew well; one he knew applied to not only his family, but all of their kind. A woman’s duties were simple - remain pure, marry, and have children, while the lines a man was forced into were far more blurred; find the wife, have the children, but whatever happens before that is nothing but a birthright of any son, the ability to assert his dominance whenever possible. Of course an asserting of dominance was the last thing he viewed his night with Alecto as. It was a horrid mistake, a manipulation of his desires that had done nothing but cost him his lover, though he was sure that in the eyes of his father it would be much more excusable than Narcissa’s tainting of her purity before marriage, and at the hands of a woman.
(Source: pureblood-lucius)
She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. Yes, her father had secured very good seats. It surprised her that she had never seen him in the same section as her. Lucy nodded when Lucius said he hated to lose so he wouldn’t play. “Losing isn’t fun at all but it pushes me to become the best so that I will never lose again. Well, if I can help it,” she explained, a small smile on her lips. Though, she hated losing. Losing was not an option for a Karoonda.
She flashed him another small smile as they once again agreed. Huh- fascinating.
Being controlled by your father seemed an awful thing to Lucy. Before meeting the Slytherin, she had thought that she was controlled by her father in public and now seeing how Lucius’ father chose his friends for him. She wouldn’t say anything. He respected his father but something about this type of respect made her skin crawl. She felt sorry for him. “Well that’s good to hear,” she added.
Lucy laughed a little as he returned her smirk. Perhaps the cold Slytherin had a sense of humor? ”Well thank you for the honour. I feel flattered. It’s nice to meet someone new,” she explained.
Lucius arched a curious brow at the girl’s words. For a mere moment, a moment that Lucius could barely fathom as truth, it appeared as if she, a Gryffindor, had spoken words that he could actually relate to. ”Is that a ‘win at all costs’ attitude I see shining through?” he questioned, intrigued. It appeared as if the girl’s inner Slytherin may have been showing, and if that was the case, he’d be sure to drag the rest of it out. His Slytherin cunning and manipulative nature surely shone through more times than not; the man would go to great lengths to ensure that his needs were met, that any situation could be tweaked and turned to his advantage. If this girl held the same sort of fire beneath her calm exterior, perhaps they’d get along better than he’d planned.
He gave the girl a slight nod in return, not entirely sure that she understood the obligations he was put under by his family, but willing to let the subject go. Truthfully, Lucius had never had a choice in who he spent his time with. As a child his parents would organize every one of his playdates, forcing friendships with the children of fellow pureblooded nobilities, children with a Slytherin heritage as long as his own, the children that would grow up to be his closest friends; not necessarily by choice, at first, but Lucius had grown to care for them just as well as if he had found them on his own. The same went for Narcissa Black, the woman his parents had always intended for him to marry, the woman he’d fallen for regardless. However, as each day went by it was as if his doubts in her continued to grow, and he knew soon enough they would physically manifest themselves, forcing his feet to approach her, forcing his lips to ask the dangerous questions that had been resting on the tip of his tongue ever since Bellatrix had palced the seed of Narcissa and Alecto in his mind.
Lucius snapped himself out of his looming thoughts; now was not a time for such atrocities, for musings that would allow his horribly curious mind to wander to the worst possible scenarios. The focus of his stroll had been to avoid these thoughts, and that was what he, as best he could, was going to try to do. ”As you should,” he nodded, a small, cocky smirk playing on his lips. Lucius paused for a moment, contemplating the words ringing through his ears. ”It is,” he finally breathed. He spent a majority of his life with the same company, and on three hundred sixty-four days of the year that didn’t bother him in the slightest. However, on the three hundred sixty-fifth, especially in situations like his current one, the last thing Lucius wanted was the company of those that knew him better than he knew himself, those whose curious lips would ask him what he’d gotten up to over the holidays, how Narcissa was, what was going on in their relationship. For once, it was almost settling to converse with a stranger, someone who knew not of his familial obligations, the workings of his relationship, any of it. He didn’t have to think, didn’t have to mentally prepare answers to dangerous looming questions that the girl may blurt out at any moment, because behind her pretty blonde exterior lied no knowledge of him or his background, nothing but apparent curiosity.
Of course, it wasn’t as if he’d be making a habit of it. He was still Lucius Malfoy, the man with Hogwarts’ most impeccable standards, the man that likely wouldn’t have given the girl a second look if she had uttered anything other than ‘pureblood’ while the topic had been in the air. Those standards still applied, and while he was in the company of a Gryffindor stranger with blood as pure as his own who, for quite the change of pace, didn’t know the inner workings of his life and circles, why wouldn’t he take advantage of the opportunity to lose himself in conversation that, for once, didn’t unsettle him?
