Vanity-Narcissa Malfoy

[vaguely-dirty.livejournal.com]

Title: Vanity
Author: Minx// silent_fey
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All characters copyrighted to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc. I claim no ownership over anything; this is just the product of boredom.
Summary: Sometimes, the one thing that we seek to protect will lead us down paths we'd rather not take.
Notes: Written for prompt number 22, Rules are for people who don't know how to get around them. --Tori Harrison. Beta’d by caffeinechick03
Length: 1,957 words
Concrit: Very much welcome and appreciated.


Vanity

Looking into the gilded vanity mirror, the antique silver treasure that had adorned the houses of ten different Black generations, Narcissa thought back on the events that had unfolded that night. She had shamed her family and sooner or later she would be faced with the aftermath of her actions. If Lucius ever caught word of her actions he’d surely find a way out of Azkaban sooner.

Behind Narcissa paced Bellatrix, a furious glint dancing in her heavy-lidded eyes. Glancing at the ruminative figure of her sister she spat, “How could you, Narcissa? Severus Snape? The filthy traitor will have Draco killed! Are you even listening?”

“I know what I’ve done, sister. Everything you say I’ve considered before; nothing you can say will make me regret my decision. I trust Severus and he will take care of Draco,” snapped Narcissa, tracing the gold filigree, which wove its way around the mirror like ivy.


Narcissa remembered well the night she had been given the mirror. It was her wedding night, an evening that had been long awaited by Narcissa’s mother. She had arranged her daughter’s dowry with the greatest care, making sure that it displayed Narcissa’s stature as a Pureblood heiress. The dowry included various rare artefacts and heirlooms, which Narcissa placed throughout the spacious interior of her new home in Malfoy Manor. However, upon discovering the mirror Narcissa decided to make that the one piece that would reside in her chamber.

Later that night, Lucius found Narcissa in their bedchambers, combing her pale hair in front of her mirror. She watched his reflection in the mirror as he placed an almost chaste kiss at the base of her neck. Stepping back, Lucius began to undress himself, first taking off his silver dress robes and then the fine linen shirt underneath. Without a word, he lifted Narcissa off the vanity, kissing her deeply as he carried her to their bed.

Placing her delicately on the bed Lucius whispered, “I’ve been waiting for this all night.” He kissed Narcissa again, this time more forcefully as if afraid that she would disappear from beneath him, as he finished undressing himself and began undressing her. Narcissa caught sight of their reflection in the mirror and called to mind all the things that she’d been told about what would happen. Their union was supposed to be romantic, amorous, and passionate, it should’ve been a night of pure ecstasy.

However, Narcissa found it to be none of those things. As the two of them rocked back and forth, Lucius began to thrust harder and more forcefully, letting out the occasional grunt. Narcissa tried to keep pace with him but found that it hurt more to move against him. She raked her fingers across his back as he licked and sucked at different places on her body, each time muttering words like “mine”, “beautiful”, and “always”. He smelled vaguely of soap and some sort of wintry aftershave Narcissa noticed as he kissed her again at the base of her neck. He continued his kisses along her chest and torso, exploring each delicate curve with his tongue as he claimed it for his own. At last, he threw back his head and let out a low, guttural moan as he shuddered with release. He collapsed next to Narcissa and brushing his lips along her ear, he growled softly, “You are my bride and my prize. From tonight onward you are mine only and I will keep you beside me, always.”

Narcissa knew she had expected too much for that night. She had never perceived her husband as the kind of man who would expose his feelings in bed, she should’ve known better than to hope her perceptions were wrong. The only thing Lucius could express was his pride and a feeling of possessiveness. Narcissa was no stranger to his covetous claims; her father was once the same. Whilst Bella was the passionate, warrior-like one and Andromeda the unique, rebellious one, Narcissa had been the pale, detached beauty. Her beauty had been her parents’ only concern and apparently, it was Lucius’ as well.

She was once again at the vanity, facing the mirror she had come to adore. Narcissa had been married for nearly six months now and once again she found herself contemplating how to make the one request that she’d been harbouring for the past two months. Lucius would return from one of his ‘meetings’ soon and she had finally decided to ask him that night. There was no such thing as perfect timing for such an inquiry but as Lucius stepped into the bedchambers, Narcissa decided to wait until he was a bit more comfortable.

After a few moments, she turned to face her husband and declared, “I want to take the Mark.”

Lucius gave her an appraising glance and replied, “No, I don’t think you should.”

“May I ask why?”

“Narcissa, you are too fair and fragile, the Dark Lord would leave you mad. I will not have my wife become some useless lunatic,” he responded simply, acting as if he were talking to a child.

“My sister is one of his most trusted servants and I am as skilled and powerful as she is. She’s managed to stay sane, why wouldn’t I?” asked Narcissa, trying to keep her tone neutral rather than revealing her annoyance.

“I would hardly call Bellatrix completely sane, she’s a bit more unbalanced than she lets on. Besides, we are not discussing her decisions we are discussing yours. Bellatrix is Rodolphus’ concern, not ours.”

“Well, I’m sure Bella would be honoured to present me to Him if you do not agree. Though, what would everyone say if they thought you could not present your wife to you Master?” snapped Narcissa. She watched silently as Lucius considered his options and she knew she had won. Had he been as resolute as he sounded, he wouldn’t have needed the time to deliberate.

Finally, he conceded, “Alright, if you’re so inclined to take the Mark then I will present you to the Dark Lord in a fortnight. The consequences are yours to bear alone, do not cry to me if you cannot bear them.”

Two weeks later, Narcissa found herself at her vanity again, her left arm throbbing and burning. The Mark had faded until it blended in perfectly with her skin but she still felt her Master’s pull reminding her of what she had committed herself to. She did not regret her actions until that moment as she read the response from a Healer at St. Mungo’s. Narcissa read it again and again until she had memorized the words on the scrap of parchment:

Dear Mrs. Malfoy,

Having examined your symptoms and the sample of blood that you sent, the answer to your question is very obvious. We are pleased to inform you that you are with child, a male to be precise. If all goes well you should be in labour by early June, sometime between the fourth and sixth perhaps. We at St. Mungo’s would like to offer our congratulations on the upcoming addition to your family and remind you that should you ever need assistance, St. Mungo’s is conveniently located in Muggle London’s Purge and Dowse, LTD.

Sincerely,
Healer Damira
St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

As the months passed, Narcissa watched through the mirror as her body and face became fuller and her sharp, pointed features softened and changed to form a round, maternal countenance. All the while Lucius could not help but indulge ‘the mother of his heir’, bringing Narcissa whatever suited her latest whim. It seemed as if only a month had passed and already Narcissa was giving birth. After an hour of labour she finally had her son, Lucius’ heir, in her arms.

Gazing across the room from the comfort of her bed, Narcissa caught sight of herself and the baby looking back at her from the vanity mirror. Her face was flushed and drawn from exertion, loose strands of pale blonde hair framing her features. In her arms slept her newborn son, swaddled in a dark blue blanket. His thin, wispy hair was the same white-blond colour as his father’s and barely stood out against his pale skin and rosy cheeks. He began to squirm in her arms and looking down Narcissa whispered, “Be still Draco, my dragon. There’s no need to fuss.”


“Be still Draco, my dragon. There’s no need to fuss,” chided Narcissa gently, calling to mind the first few words she had said to her son sixteen years ago. She stood behind him playing with his hair as she tried to dissuade him from taking the Mark and watched his reflection in the mirror as he sneered at her words.

“Don’t coddle me, Mother, I am not a child. I know what I need to do.”

“But you don’t have to do it! I know you are a man but you aren’t yet of age, do not pledge yourself so early. At least finish your training-”

“I don’t need to finish my training, it won’t matter in the end. Everything that I need to know was taught to me by Father, Hogwarts is of no use to me,” exclaimed Draco, stopping Narcissa mid-sentence. He stood up from the vanity chair and turned to face her, his hard silver eyes filled with determination. “I’m ready for this, Mother. I am old enough and strong enough to make this decision.”

Narcissa reached out to touch her son’s cheek remembering how she could, at one point, dissuade him from some of his more steadfast notions. She thought back to the time when she too had made the same protests and as he brushed away her hand she whispered, “You’ll soon know better, son. One day you will wish that I had succeeded in stopping you.”


Narcissa drew back from her memories to find Bellatrix still fuming behind her, occasionally muttering words such as “unthinkable”, “torture”, and “foolish”. Looking at her face in the gilded mirror, Narcissa fully understood what she had done and why she had done it. It was she, not Bella, who had seen Draco’s resolve falter after hearing his task; it was she, not Bella, who had helped him ease the pain one feels after having part of their magic drawn out and replaced by a thick, rough patch of skin burned black in the shape of the Mark.

She had shamed her family, yes. Narcissa had crawled on her hands and knees and begged for help from the one man whom Lucius was positive was a spy. She had sown her problem; sooner or later she would reap its consequences. That one moment, however, would not come now. For the time being, her family would soon be whole; it wouldn’t be long before her husband would return to her and for that she was grateful. It was he who put Draco in this predicament and she had only done all that was in her power to make sure that he would have his heir when he returned.

Turning to face her sister, Narcissa listened respectfully as Bellatrix calmly (or as calm as she could ever be under such circumstances) asked the one question that had been troubling her throughout the night.

“Why, Cissy? Why betray the Dark Lord’s trust?”

“You will never understand, Bellatrix. I know why I have done this and I will not regret it. Draco is my son-”

“The Dark Lord’s word is law!”

Once again tracing the tumultuous shapes around her cherished mirror, the one who had witnessed her life in the past seventeen years, Narcissa replied, “Rules, Bella, are for those who do not know how to get around them.”

END


A/N: I considered taking the sex scene out seeing as it is GENfic but I thought that it did more with the general story than with their personal/romantic relationship. Kinda shows their dynamics, imo. Thoughts?