So…I wrote a story very like this a few months ago called a 'New Dimension', however it was atrocious and ridden with typo's plus it just wasn't good. So, I changed it hugely, in fact almost entirely.
So please, enjoy!
The village was quiet, spare for a few children who ran past him pulling with them a wooden vehicle of some sort clearly homemade that rattled along the rough road. He watched them go with a hint of disdain - they had no decorum but then again, they were Muggle children. It was a spring evening so the sun was still high in the sky, painting the country red and orange. One of the children stopped in his tracks, clearly curious as to Lucius' presence in this homely, if somewhat dubious village.
"Excuse me sir," the boy wiped his dirty face with the back of an even dirtier hand. Lucius sneered and wanted to recoil away in horror from the all encompassing filth of the child, "Can I help you at all?"
Lucius looked down, "No. On your way."
The boy looked rather hurt but Lucius could not have cared less if he had to and simply waved a careless and dismissive hand. The young boy looked at him strangely again ( possibly because of his attire) then scampered off to catch up with his waiting friends. Again, alone now in the balmy air Lucius surveyed the houses, in their neat rows before him. Each one was small; perfectly tendered gardens lay before each in neat patches of green grass. Some had sprinklers, others didn't. Each had a different coloured door and the one that he was particularly interested in was painted a bright, vivid red. Narcissa liked red, he wondered if she did too. He braced himself and leaning against the post, took one last scan of the place and then running a hand through his hair, began to make his way across the road.
He raised his fist and rapped swiftly and hard on the door once. No one answered. He repeated his action again. The door unlatched quickly to frame a woman in robes of deep blue. She looked shocked, her arms coming up immediately to cross over her chest. He Hadn't seen her, in close proximity, for years but she hadn't really changed at all.
"What do you want?" She questioned, holding the door firmly. So firmly in fact he saw her knuckles whiten with tension. He smiled to himself for she was upset by his presence and rightly so, he would not please her.
"I wish to speak with you," he said quietly, "Might I come in?"
"No," she answered firmly, "I wont have you in my home."
"I am not here to hurt you," he hissed as she began to shut the door in his face, he put out a leather boot-clad foot to stop her, "I simply wish to speak to you." He inclined his head warningly.
"About what?" She peed through the crack in the door while she latched the chain.
"You really think that would keep me out?" He couldn't resist and sneered slightly, "I wish to speak to you, that is all!"
"What could you possibly want to speak to me about?" She hissed, her somewhat pretty face contorting into rage. He could appreciate beauty, even if it manifested itself in a blood traitor.
Lucius glanced behind himself, the children were now congregated on the road, watching the argument with some interest. He lowered his voice and narrowed is eyes, "Your sister."
Andromeda was caught momentarily dumbfounded he could tell but she recovered well, much like her sister might, "Narcissa?"
"Yes, Narcissa." He became impatient, "Who else?"
"Ted is out, I don't trust-"
"I wouldn't waste my time on you," he said arrogantly, "I don't do it in broad day light anyway. I have manners." He could physically see her shiver but she was safe in broad day light, he wasn't so inclined to be indulgent on such a spring day. Especially when it meant he would mostly get dirty; he imagined she would put up a good fight.
"Fine," she resigned herself, "But I mean it Malfoy, one foot out of-"
"And what, a woman like you is no match to me," he answered.
"You Don't do yourself any favours," she pulled the door forcefully and fully open.
"Thank you," he nodded his head gracefully.
Inside was dull but oddly bright at the same time. There was a homely smell of baking and flowers but he found the size of the house distasteful and ungainly. The sitting room was lined with books, for he knew the mudblood Tonks was quite the scholar, as well as the middle Black sister. In front of the window their child played, her purple hair turning intermittently green as she played with her toys, bashing each ungracefully against each other. He felt the momentary urge to kick the little brat, she was the very beacon of all the things wrong with today's society but he resisted the urge, he did not want to cause unnecessary trouble and she was merely an innocent victim, the parents were the true culprits.
So? won't you sit?"
"I don't have time," he answered, not moving to do anything.
"Well then?" She questioned but was side tracked by a sliding noise, "Nymphadora! Do not do that!"
She dived forward and lifted the child who had clambered near a table, where a full jug of water teetered precociously and had proceeded to climb up onto it. She turned to him, once she had seen to the brat and looked enquiringly.
"You know I am to be married to your sister in under two weeks. She is somewhat upset you are not coming to the wedding and I am here to ask you if you will settle her mind, I cannot have her so vexed."
She looked at him in surprise, "I would never come to your wedding."
"Oh," he laughed mirthlessly, "Be under no illusion. I for one do not want you there, and I don't doubt, though I do not speak to them, your parents will not want you there either. However, given yourself and my Fiancée's previously close relationship, she desires nothing more. Though she knows you will not. And I endeavour to give her everything she desires."
"What on earth are you proposing?" She was clearly agitated, she wanted him out of her home and out of her life. He smiled serenely.
"I propose you meet with her tonight for half an hour at my home, you sever your ties and that is it. It is rather simple."
He continued to stare at her, watching her cradle the child in her arms. She looked from some aspects like Narcissa. For the sisters' though all different in colouring often resembled each other but Andromeda bore more resemblance to the erratic Bellatrix than his beloved Narcissa.
"I don't know if…" she trailed off, "I cannot promise I will be there."
"I am merely suggesting it," he narrowed his eyes.
"What time?" She questioned.
"8 o'clock," he answered, already making his way to the front door. She followed him to the hall but said nothing.
She closed the door with a firm slam behind him as he stepped into the sun and decided he should owl Runcorn and see if he wished to eat at the Wizarding Club, he could think of nothing better than some salted beef and cigars. And then returning to a happier Narcissa, for he hated to see her so vexed. Perhaps, he mused as he made his way down the street, he would do anything for the fascinating woman he had chosen to marry. He had chosen strangely, unexpectedly, to love.
"Master Malfoy", the Elf looked up at her with saucer –eyes and she felt a compulsion to kick it with one of her elegant shoes, "Did have me tell Mistress-to-be he will be late for dining and she is to be making herself comfortable in the house."
"Yes," she sniffed, she hated when Lucius was late for dinner with her, especially when he made her traipse to Wiltshire in order to make her wait until the most ungodly hour and expected her to be pleased with him.
And of late she had been feeling so down that he was only serving to irritate her more. It Didn't matter what Andy had done, and though she knew her sister had done a terrible thing, she never ceased to miss her. She sighed, she hated being alone in this house as it was, she missed his company at all hours of the day and their wedding truly could not come quick enough. Her thoughts turned to the night before, when she had been so despondent with him in the restaurant she had driven him to lose his temper with her. She sighed again, she hated arguing with him, if simply for the fact he was so very immature about disagreements. She knew how he loathed the idea of his wife fraternising with a blood-traitor and honestly, she didn't want to either but Andromeda was her sister and it pained her to know that she was close to neither of her sisters. She was nothing like them, she was not a strumpet like Bella, who was only obsessed with torture and Dark Arts. Nor had she broken the mould in such a disastrous way like Andy. But that didn't mean she didn't have a backbone she reminded herself - as she made her way to the library to fetch a book- there was nothing she wouldn't do for the family she knew she would have in the future, or Lucius.
She had silently reprimanded herself for how cruel she had been to him for he had been so very understanding and kind, though firm that he did not want her to see Andy.
Pushing all thoughts aside as she climbed the ladder to the very top shelf, to the very oldest books, she ordered the elf down below to brew her some tea. She smiled to herself, already the elves done her bidding and she was looking forward to being the Mistress of this Manor.
Picking out a nice ancient piece in which - no doubt-she would become bored and fall asleep until he arrived, she made her way to the comfier Den, which was strictly for family and close friends.
She expected to be left with her own company for hours, so it came as a shock when she realises that this was not the case. In the Den, a figure stood before her, the figure of her once skinny and unremarkable sister. Narcissa found herself truly at a loss for words at the sight of her once beloved Andy, leaning nervously on the mantle.
Narcissa, instead of speaking scrutinised her with wide eyes. She had filled out more and bore such a resemblance to Bella it was uncanny, though she was fuller hipped with a softer face and brighter eyes, that did not display the yawning pit of madness that Bella's did.
She held Narcissa's gaze steadily for those brief seconds which follow a shock but shuffled nervously from foot to foot, betraying her true feelings.
Intermittently Narcissa felt anger, then pity and then anger rise up again and wanted to scream and shout and tell her sister how much her eloping had cost her, had cost her family. She wanted to scream and shout and snarl but instead, she swallowed every last word of anger until they all disappeared into nothingness.
"Your house is nice," Andromeda said nervously, looking at hers sister as if she had never seen her before, as if she were a stranger.
"Thank you," Narcissa said after a moment, trying to gain some composure, "It's not mine, yet."
"I – your welcome."
"Please, sit," Narcissa said coldly, motioning with a fine hand to the couch while she settled herself on the chair, her back erect and poised "How can I help you?"
Andromeda looked at her incredulously and Narcissa could not help her formal tone for her anger was so much, now she had her sister to herself, that she could employ no other manner. She was fluid and formal and used to hosting guest, this should be no different then.
"Must you be so cold?" Andromeda said suddenly, flaring up and losing all pretence as she settled herself.
"Must you have left?" Narcissa bit out childishly before she could help herself. She mentally reprimanded herself for such a display of emotion and felt very immature for displaying her feelings so carelessly.
"I-" Andromeda changed suddenly and she seemed to soften, "I meant to say goodbye, I meant to say sorry."
Well, it must have slipped your mind." Narcissa did not take her eyes of her sister's face as she said it, cruel in its candour, from which she took a glimmer of pleasure.
"No, I didn't have the courage…" Her sister scanned the room, as if she were trying to find words with which to say something, "I received your invitation. I cannot come. This is my attempt at a refusing R.S.V.P."
She laughed dryly and stared at Narcissa, who glared back. she did not like to be mocked.
"I invited you on the principal you wouldn't come."
"A waste of parchment, then," Andromeda answered, "And I wager you did it for your own therapy."
"Lucius wouldn't want you there," she answered testily, "And in all honesty, it would not be suitable. It was a childish whim."
Andromeda ignored her attempts to justify her behaviour, "Lucius Malfoy," she said it as if she were thinking to herself, "You will make a fine wife for him. Then again, you would make a perfect wife for any well-bred men."
The last words contained more than a hint of contempt.
"I am aware of that," Narcissa replied though she felt like adding; 'that's not all I am useful for,' but she didn't. She merely pursed her lips together and kept her eyes on her sister.
"You are a good person, Narcissa." Andy forged on but Narcissa merely nodded her head and said nothing.
"Do not call me that," she said hotly, all attempts to be proper disappearing, "You have no right to call me that anymore."
"I know," Andromeda shook her head slightly. A pause sprung up between them and Narcissa knew it was one in which each would review their life choices and convince themselves that they were right in what they had done.
"Would you like anything to drink?" Narcissa asked stiffly, for it was the only way to save herself from this horrible situation; to be in charge, to be in control. She would not let Andy take that from under her feet.
"No," Andromeda shook her head and smiled slightly, "I have only half an hour."
"Oh…I see," Narcissa answered, looking out of the window, waiting for her sister to take the next shot.
"He is very understanding, he cares," Andromeda forged on, staring continuously now at her hands.
"I have no idea what you mean," Narcissa snapped icily, and though it was a complete lie, "I am busy, so if you do not mind…"
" I mean," Andromeda answered hotly, "I mean your Fiancé. He obviously wants to please you."
"Oh, he does indeed," she said slowly, wanting all the intended innuendo to be entirely clear.
"You are not a little girl anymore," Andromeda observed, almost sadly, "That much is clear. I knew that when he came to see me today."
Narcissa felt her own eyes widen, her face flush with insecurity, "Lucius?"
Narcissa inclined her head but in no way had she swallowed the idea that Lucius had visited her sister; it was slightly unrealistic to imagine Lucius even in a room with the likes of Andromeda, never mind intentionally putting himself in that situation.
"He requested in no short measure that I put you out or your misery, I am here to do that," she smiled vapidly, "I'm here to tell you it's alright to loathe me because that is what he wants."
"How dare you!" Narcissa cried her defence as she would always, "You do not know him."
"Do you even know him, Narcissa?"
"Of course I do, Andromeda." She said, standing up swiftly and moving to the window. She felt faint with agitation, this was becoming too much.
"You love him?"
"Yes," she turned to face her sister, her eyes daring her to derail the idea that Narcissa was very much in love with Lucius Malfoy, no matter what others though of him and indeed that he returned the sentiments, "Just like you are in love with Mr. Tonks."
I-" Andromeda stared at her, "He will be the end of you Narcissa."
"So be it," Narcissa answered quietly, the words slow to leave her mouth and land at Andromeda's feet so she would have to stare at them forever, to see her sister's predicament in all its dark glory, see her wither before her eyes for the love of her husband-to-be.
"You don't have to do this," Andromeda said after a moment of pain and insight, moving toward her sister with her hands open, "You can come with me."
"Are you still latched to the idea I'm being forced into this? By what power has my will ever been forced but love" Narcissa laughed dryly, "I desire it more than anything in the world. I would die in his arms, by his hand, quicker than go with you and be a blood-traitor. "
Narcissa enjoyed watching the pain in Andromeda's face at her words and felt a surge of power so unequivocal it made her hunger for more. She didn't care if she had to suffer with him or for him, for she knew it was what she wanted.
"You have changed," Andromeda answered coldly, recoiling back from her own sister, "I wish you every luck in your life."
She stepped forward an inch instinctively, as if she were going to hug Narcissa but she didn't, instead she stepped back again and clenched her fists by her side.
"And I in yours," Narcissa answered turning to the window. No quicker she had than her sister turned on the spot and vanished, leaving behind her a horrible silence that eat into Narcissa's blood and made it run cold. Outside there was nothing but dark sprinkled with glinting stars. She felt the desperate need to cry for the confrontation had been so cruel but she would not, she had made her choice and she would stand by it.
"Good evening," a voice from behind her that filled her with warmth, with comfort no matter how cold the tone. She turned, wiping the glitter of threatening tears from her eyes. He bowed slightly and kissed her hand, producing from thin air a fabulous bunch of flowers.
"Thank you," she whispered and so much more than gratitude for simple flowers was conveyed in that sentence.
He looked at her softly and inclined his head, reaching hot softly with his hand to touch her cheek, "How is my Fiancée today?"
"She is better," she answered, arranging he flowers in a vase on the desk.
"I am glad to hear it," he answered, removing his cloak and pouring himself a whiskey from the crystal decanter.
He came to stand behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Narcissa you know I…" he squeezed her shoulder and bending kissed the side of her neck, "I will give you anything you desire."
"I desire only you," she said quietly, turning to him, "I don't need anything else."
"You understand my life Narcissa, don't you? You know what I am?" For the first time she seen doubt flash in his eyes, immediately chased by fear he had betrayed himself. She reached out to touch his cheek and he turned his face to kiss her palm, eyes closed.
He suddenly moved, his head crashing to her shoulder as his lips came into contact with her neck and he tore away the neckline of her gown. He bit down hard on the skin, lifting her with one strong arm around her waist to sit on the desk. And knocked over the china vase of flowers, which wilted with water on the sodden Axminster.
"I want to be inside you," he whispered hoarsely, drawing blood from her lip.
"You already are."
Thanks, please review!