A/N: Hi! So, this is the first fan fiction I ever wrote in English, but as I'm constantly communicating with people on the internet in that language, and willscarletts from tumblr, who was kind enough to beta this little thing (thanks yet again, Rae!), told me she doubted anyone would realise it wasn't my first language anyway (no idea why she would say that, I don't know any vocabulary whatsoever), I'm uploading it to *cough* prove her wrong *cough* see what you guys think of this.
Any comments are appreciated, so feel free to leave one!
Dedicated to Air who is the reason I got into this lovely ship to the stage where I would go down with it! I love you, Kleines!
I want the lights on
and I don't want to run away anymore
leave the lights on, leave the lights on
leave the lights on, meiko
"My dearest Cissa," the letter began in the familiar handwriting the Slytherin loved to receive anything from. "I'm sorry I can't tell you in person, I've always thought letters a bit impersonal, but as I wanted you to know this from myself rather than from mother's tear, rage, and foul word drenched parchment, I'm writing to you anyway.
"Hopefully you'll receive the news sooner than they do, so you won't be reading this with their words on your mind. Oh, Cissa, they'll be more than furious, and I'm sorry I won't be there to help you cope. Mother won't stop crying and shouting and calling me names – half of them she made up just for me. Father sits in his armchair, silently brooding, staring into the flames, seemingly waiting for something to happen – maybe for me to jump out of a bunch of green flames, shouting what fools they are to believe I'd actually do that. And oh! Auntie Walburga will burn me off the tapestry as soon as she hears of this, and tell everyone she had been expecting this since the day I was born, just as she was when Sirius moved in with the Potters. I'm marrying Ted, Cissa." The girl swallowed, leaning against the Owlery's cold stone wall for support before she continued to read. "This was the hardest decision I've ever had to make in my life, Cissa, and I don't expect you to understand – though then again I do because I've seen the way you look at Lucius – I love him, Cissa.
"Yes, I love you, too, you most of all, though I'll still love all of them when they won't think of me as a family member anymore; I know I will, I'm not strong enough not to, but, my little Cissy, I don't think living without him is an option. I could do it, I'm sure of it, but I'd hate myself for leaving him all the while. I'd hate myself so much I probably wouldn't live anymore – I'd breathe, I'd eat, I'd function, yes, but I wouldn't live. It hurts to know we probably won't see each other again, not soon or only from afar, but I promise I won't forget you, I doubt I ever could, but I promise anyway. I need you to know I won't, and I hope you won't forget me either because I love you, my fair little child, and I'll have you in my heart when I walk down the aisle, and I will never let go, no matter how you yourself will think of this, or how much you'll hate me for leaving you. I will always love you, my dearest Cissy, you know I will. Your sister, Andromeda." She almost tore the parchment apart instantly, when she saw another line. "PS: I have seen the way he looks at you, too."
and no one other wanted you,
at least not the way you wanted yourself to be loved.
broken angel, boyce avenue
Her body was shaking, from anger - from fear. Instead of tearing the letter apart, she curled her hand into a fist, crumpling the parchment and cutting her soft flesh in the process. She didn't mind, though, almost didn't realise, her heart clenching so tightly, her chest heaving with such fast, soft breaths she might as well have stopped breathing altogether, right there.
Tears were threatening to leave her eyes, but she swallowed them down the best she could. She would not cry. Not yet, anyway.
'cause it's too cold
for you here and now
so let me hold both your hands
in the holes of my sweater
sweater weather, the neighbourhood
Narcissa had been outside ever since classes ended that day. Despite her usual self, she had neither finished at least one of her essays, nor had she sat down with her group of friends in the common room and talked the latest gossip, news from their parents or other family members, or – and this was the part she either sat through silently or when she got up and left – boys. Especially since the first two were the things she was running from today. Staring blankly at the lake in front of her, the only tears running down her cheeks were the ones cause by the icy wind blowing around her.
As sharp and cold as the wind were, so were the looks she shot anybody nearing her. One or two of her girlfriends had been targets of these glances, too, but instead of just leaving her be, they had sent someone else down to the lake; someone – they were sure – who would make her talk. They were about as right as they could be.
"Narcissa." There was an odd edge to his voice, one she had never heard before, almost similar to worry but why would he be worrying about anything? anyone? why would he worry about her? Of course, she sometimes got the feeling, when he was treating her extraordinarily nicely for some reason, that he might as well care about her, actually care, like one cared for someone they liked, loved, didn't want to ever lose in her life – like she was afraid she cared for him – but he was Lucius Malfoy, and, Salazar!, how often had he himself told her that Malfoys didn't care, not about anything or anyone besides their family and maybe, if the time was right, blood status and power.
She remembered telling him she didn't care about anything else either and how he raised his eyebrows in response, smirking almost knowingly. He had bent down and kissed her, roughly on the lips, and she had closed her eyes to hide her lies as she had known even then that she had stepped into the trap that meant falling, caring, for Lucius Malfoy, the ice-cold boy who didn't like, didn't care, didn't love.
"Narcissa." He was closer now; she could hear his footsteps, the sound changing when his feet touched grass and snow. "Leave me alone, Lucius," she said, her voice almost breaking, giving in to the tears that were threatening to spill. She couldn't just break in front of him, though; he didn't care, he wouldn't understand and she wasn't going to show someone she was merely a toy to just how weak she was. "Narcissa," he said again, his hand reaching for her shoulder. "What is it?" She turned away from him as a tear rolled down her cheek. His voice seemed to be full of concern and made her want to open up, tell him, cry whilst leaning her head against his shoulder, but he didn't care, so this couldn't be real, she couldn't be hearing correctly.
He sighed and even though Narcissa couldn't see his face, she knew he was shaking his head. Her hand clutched the letter in her hand more tightly. "Just go away, Lucius." "No." His voice was steady and firm as usual, still it sounded… different. Somewhat off. The girl shook her head, trying to get rid of her wishful thinking. Malfoys didn't care. The grip on her shoulder grew tighter and he turned her around, slowly, making sure she wouldn't turn away again by leaving his hand where it was. He frowned upon seeing the traces the tears had left on her red cheeks. She swallowed, knowing her eyes were shining yet again, and when he pulled her to his chest, it almost took her by surprise. She breathed him in, trying to calm herself, but now that she was wrapped in a familiar warmth that promised safety, she failed miserably at not letting herself cry.
He kissed her hair and stroked her arm soothingly, his hand trailing down her arm, only stopping when his fingers felt parchment between hers. Their eyes met, her mouth already open to tell him not to read those lines, while her fingers were losing the letter to his longer, faster ones. She closed her eyes, defeated, an ironic smirk tugging at her lips. Malfoys didn't care. He'd care about this, though. He'd care about how she wasn't as pure as before since both her sister and her cousin would soon be disinherited for being blood-traitors. Malfoys always got what they wanted, and, after reading this, he wouldn't want her anymore. Her heart clenched at the thought and new tears glazed her vision, and her hand, now empty, held onto his cloak tightly before she buried her head against his shoulder again. Narcissa tried to listen to his heartbeat as it were the only thing telling about this boy, his emotions, his feelings; his face always more of a mask than hers in her best moments. Her breathing, everything but steady, and her tears, way too much to show in front of another person, made it hard to focus on something else, though, and his mouth was grazing her hairline, making her shake with nervousness.
For a while, his breaths against her hair were the only sound he made, and somehow, she even managed to calm her own breathing, as a reaction to them. Then, she felt his hands move behind her back as he folded up the parchment. "So," Lucius cleared his throat "Why exactly are you crying?" She blinked, moving to look up at him, but he closed his arms around her again, and made her feel somewhat trapped in doing so. Before she could think of an answer, he spoke again. "Is it because your sister is marrying a mudblood?" Narcissa almost nodded, knowing this was the answer everyone she knew, including him, expected of her, but he had not finished, so he need not answer yet. "Or because you're afraid you're never going to be allowed to converse with her? Because you don't want her to leave you, as in the person who probably cares about her the most in your family?" Her cheeks were wet again, or still, she didn't know, but when she nodded, a smile crept upon her face. His embrace grew tighter.
if your heart don't work, then you won't get hurt,
say goodbye such a shame say goodbye
all I want, one night only
Andromeda, what's your last name now?
My best wishes, though I don't think I should be sending them, Lucius Malfoy.
PS: How did I look at her?
and now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
my weakness I feel I must finally show
awake my soul, mumford and sons
"You know I don't care, don't you?" The pureblood population of Hogwarts was gossiping about nothing but the 'Black incident' or rather, weeks later, as the incident itself was talked-through one too many times, about how the Blacks were the black sheep of all the pureblood families the wizarding world had to offer.
Narcissa had been sitting under a tree, alone, far away from each her housemates and her classmates from the other Houses, when he sat down beside her, the question falling from his lips. She looked up from her book and to the green grass; April was doing its best to show off its good weather, now that the pupils' exams were coming closer and closer. "Of course you don't, Lucius," she said, shrugging lightly. "You're a Malfoy. And Malfoys don't care, remember?" She had expected an exasperated smile, or a roll of his eyes, but instead, he snorted, turning towards her. "I do! I mean, I don't–" He frowned. "Cissa, what i'm trying to say is, I do care about you." She looked up at him and he continued. "You may hide it well, and other people may have no clue, but I see how much this distresses you, how much you miss her, and I want you to know that I don't care. I admit I usually would but – I've read her letter and she's so sincere and honest I just can't think of it as a bad decision because – I guess I might understand why she did it; not only because I've read the letter, if you know what I mean." She didn't, did she? Wondering, Narcissa watched him leave, a smile tugging at her lips. Maybe she did.
I used to dream of making it in this town
now I'm dreaming of making it out
there tonight, every avenue
"How do you tell someone you love them?" "You don't," his father said.
"How do you tell someone you love them?" "Why would you risk getting hurt, Cissy?" her mother asked.
all you never say is that you love me so
if only I could look into your mind
maybe then I'd find a sign
of all I want to hear you say to me
all you never say, birdy
"I would have done the same." He was cradling her against his chest, fingers playing with her hair spread on her bare back. "As your sister." She frowned lightly. "I would have married you if you weren't a pureblood, Narcissa." She nuzzled against his chest, closing her eyes. "Me, too."
And that was the closest to 'I love you' they got for a long time.