To Marry a Malfoy

To Marry a Malfoy

Pansy Parkinson-Malfoy's robes swept across the bright emerald grass as she headed toward the set of lawn furniture, which was shaded nicely by a green and white umbrella of gigantic proportions. A house elf hovered nearby Narcissa Malfoy's elbow, setting a high tea upon the white wrought-iron table.

"Hello, Mother," Pansy said breathlessly. "I'm sorry that I'm late."

Narcissa wore a rather large sun hat with a blue ribbon wrapped around the brim. It matched her robes, as well as the eyes that flickered toward the younger woman. "Better late than never," she replied, offering an alabaster cheek for Pansy to kiss. "Do sit down. Tea has just arrived." She gestured toward the chair that sat across from her. "Did my son come with you?"

"Yes. He's why we're late." Pansy took the offered chair, crossing her legs at the ankles. "He slept in, then was in a terrible state all morning, yelling at the servants, kicking the house elf."

Narcissa chuckled lightly. "It seems that marriage hasn't changed him a single bit." She poured herself a cup of tea. "How was Switzerland?"

"Cold," Pansy replied with a snort. "He spent most of his time in the chalet terrorizing the servants, but I did a great deal of shopping. Which reminds me." She drew a small box out of her robes, sliding it across the table. "This is for you. I picked it out; Draco approved of it." She then took the pot of tea, helping herself to a cup.

"Oh, how kind of you," Narcissa murmured, lifting the lid of the box. Inside was a beautifully crafted witch's watch, a tiny fairy trapped within to illuminate the time. "How charming." Her voice remained almost emotionless. "Thank you. You have taste, without a doubt, Draco's approval notwithstanding." She slipped the watch onto her slender wrist, turning it in the sunlight, watching the fairy within.

Pansy waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal as she raised her teacup to her lips, taking a sip. "There is this lovely store in the Alps, where there's this tiny wizarding neighborhood, hardly even a town -"

"-I know it well," Narcissa replied, watching her daughter-in-law now, the watch almost forgotten. "The one with all of the fairy trinkets. Truly an unusual store. Lucius and I used to go often to the Alps, but in the past few years we haven't had the time."

Pansy helped herself to a scone and fresh butter, glancing up at her mother-in-law as she did so. "And how is Father?" she inquired.

"He's been rather morbid as of late," Narcissa replied, a bit of irony tingeing her voice. "Which is why he wanted to see Draco alone. He wants to go over his will again. Why, I do not know. He gets this way every once in awhile. He becomes somewhat bittersweet and restless, wandering the halls at night, making inventories of all of his artifacts and such, waking me to remind me which I'm to sell immediately if he...well..." She trailed off rather uneasily.

Pansy looked up from her scone. "Father's not ill, is he?" she inquired.

Narcissa laughed lightly. "Of course not. Don't be silly. He's in perfect health. In fact, his doctor visited him the other day for his yearly physical. He's quite fit for a man his age."

Picking at her scone, Pansy finally took a tentative bite of it. "Draco worries me sometimes," she confessed. "How he catches cold so easily..." She trailed off.

Teacup in both hands, Narcissa gazed again at Pansy. "He's been that way all of his life. Make sure that he takes a pepperup potion if he begins to sneeze or cough." Then she looked past the younger woman, her thoughts perhaps far away. "A team of Mediwizards fought to save his life when he was born. In those days, a child that was two months premature didn't stand much of a chance. They've made such advances with spells and charms and such - now a baby the size of a bottle of butterbeer can do quite well." She paused, sipping her tea before continuing. "When he was five, Draco was frequently ill. He caught every sort of magical flu that came his way, so we employed the finest of doctors in the world. The decision? A weak immune system because of his premature birth and breeding." The smallest of smiles touched her face, but this gesture was clearly bittersweet. "I used to find it odd, how he would fall from his broom as a child - sometimes as high as the roof and right onto the pavement - and he'd not have a single scratch on his body. But if one of our servants sneezed, Draco would be in bed for days, sometimes running a fever as high as thirty-three degrees." Narcissa set down her cup. "Make sure that when it's cold, he wears plenty of clothing, as well as a warming charm."

"He does, Mother," Pansy said with a small grin of her own. "He overdresses, in fact. Today, he's wearing wool. I reminded him that it was Spring, and that the weather has been unseasonably warm. I told him that it was thirty degrees outside, and he'd melt in wool robes. I even tried to cajole him into wearing linen. He only made a facend put on the darkest colors he could find. I swear that he did it on purpose!"

Narcissa laughed merrily. "He gets that from his father, I'm afraid. I've never understood it. When the first thaw comes, I'm calling for my Spring clothes from my armoires. I've always been fond of a light silk or a linen robe over wools and thick knits. Lucius, meanwhile, wears black the year around, when I've been telling him for years that he looks far more becoming in grey and light blue."

"Yes. He and Draco have the same skin tone," Pansy said with a chuckle. "In fact, they're a great deal alike, aren't they?" Her face changed, and she suddenly appeared more pensive. She took another piece of her scone, putting it into her mouth.

"They are," Narcissa replied. "In fact, the older Draco gets, the more he reminds me of his father."

Pansy chewed thoughtfully for a moment, the Spring breeze playing with her dark hair. "How did you and Father meet?" she inquired.

Narcissa folded her gloved hands in her lap, settling in her chair. "Well," she began, her cheeks coloured a bit with the slightest hint of pink. "I've known him as long as I could remember. We weren't at Hogwarts together, but..." She allowed the word to fall upon the breeze, letting her thought float a bit within her own head before she continued. "My first memory of Lucius was when I was six, maybe seven. We were at a garden party, and several of the older boys were flying about on their brooms. There was a young man among them - a dashing young man with pale hair cut to here." She drew an invisible line along her jaw before returning the hand to her lap. "Now that I think back on it, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Odd, isn't it?" Narcissa dropped her gaze, staring at the white table, but her face was undoubtedly wistful. "I was a child, and he was...well...nearly a man. Sixteen or seventeen. But I begged my nurse to take me to see a Slytherin Quidditch game, and she did. That I remember well. Lucius was a beater - not terribly bad, but certainly not the star of the team."

Pansy leaned back in her chair, her brown eyes not leaving the face of her mother-in-law. She's quite young, Pansy mused. Lucius, ten years older than her, perhaps more? It doesn't surprise me in the least.

"I had not yet started Hogwarts when I was told of my betrothal to Lucius," Narcissa continued. "At first, I was, well, disgusted." She chuckled, raising a hand to her lips for a moment. "Nine years old, knowing that I'd be having babies with a man over twice my age. I didn't want to be a wife. I wanted to learn about charms and potions and the history of our people. He came to visit me once before I started school. He bought me a doll, a lovely thing with a china face. I slept with it all through my Hogwarts days, and then when I graduated, it was retired to one of our guest bedrooms. He also brought with him an engagement ring, but this he gave to my mother for when I was old enough not to lose it."

Pansy looked down at her left hand. On her ring finger, a platinum engagement band, topped with a square diamond, nestled against a simple wedding ring of the same metal. "This ring," she said. It was not a question. She knew that it was true.

Narcissa looked up, nodding. "Yes. I wanted Draco to give it to you, to keep it in the family. Lucius has purchased for me several rings far finer than that, each an equal expression of his love. I stopped wearing it in favour of this one." She removed her white lace glove, revealing her own platinum wedding band. Atop it was a slim ring topped with three emeralds. "Two days after Draco was born, I awoke and found this on my hand."

"Three emeralds," Pansy noted. "Three Slytherins."

Narcissa smiled softly as she turned the ring this way and that, watching it glitter in the sunlight. "I never again took it off."

Pansy's gaze no longer sat upon the ring, but on the tattoo that her mother-in-law had revealed when she removed her glove, the red Mark upon her arm.

Narcissa said, softly, "I see that you're looking at my Dark Mark, dear." She tilted her head in a rather genteel gesture. "Does it surprise you?"

Pansy shook her head. "No, Mother. And yes, in fact."

Narcissa gazed down at the Dark Mark, her blonde eyebrows furrowed, as if she were concentrating upon it. "The things we do for our men," she said after a long moment of silence.

"Is that why you did it?" Pansy found that she could not raise her gaze from the tattoo, the Mark of Voldemort. "For Father?"

Narcissa pulled down her sleeve with a gesture of fingertips that almost seemed happenstance, then replaced her glove with gentle tugs. "The Mudbloods and Muggles of the world will die without my help," she said in an almost musical voice. "I serve my husband's Lord. I stand with him."

"Was this your choice?" As soon as Pansy asked the question, she wished suddenly that she could retract it. This desire became even stronger when Narcissa glared up at her.

"Pansy,"Narcissa said in a quiet yet sharp tone, "I serve no one, least of all my husband." She caressed the lace of her glove, hand over hand, before reaching for her tea again. Her smile returned - serene, sweet. "I may have been arranged to marry Lucius - as you were for Draco. But to take the Mark and kill for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...This I did completely of my own free will. I did this because I love Lucius and I love my son. You may find that one does terribly unsettling things in the name of love." Narcissa raised her teacup to her lips, but did not drink. She instead lowered it, returning it to its saucer. She extended a hand to Pansy. "Take my hand, my dear."

Pansy did so without delay or comment. Narcissa patted Pansy's hand with her free one.

"I see the question in your eyes: Lucius and I, in love?" Narcissa inquired softly. "How could I help myself? How could I not love him? He might have become my husband so early in my life - I was scarcely a woman when I became his wife - but we have since realized, as we grow older, that the gaps between us have closed. We were once distant - when I was eighteen, and he was a grown man - but no. Not now. We have found that we have a great deal in common - and what is not similar is complimentary. We're hardly the same person, but that brings variety to a marriage, does it not? We can speak on everything - art, music, politics - and what we do not agree on, we debate. Now that Draco is gone from the house, these debacan happen anywhere - at the dining room table, in our studies, even in bed. Our passions for each other, they have only grown with time. I would be lying, of course, if I said that our marriage was flawless. On the contrary, it is far from it." She laughed lightly. "But when we fight - and we fight in ways that would make lower creatures shudder, certainly - it only causes us to realize that we want no other, we desire no other, yet we are still ourselves - a wizard and a witch, floating through the time, that managed to find one another."

Pansy looked down to her plate, the pale china covered with the crumbs of her scone. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't." Narcissa gave Pansy's hand one last pat before dropping it. Pansy withdrew her hand as her mother-in-law continued to speak. "It's not becoming to tell the World and Her twin that a Malfoy has time for love, is willing to allow the personal sacrifice that love requires. To let down the barrier that surrounds the soul, even for one's spouse - perish the thought!"

Pansy brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "So, what you're saying...is that it's all right to...fall in love?" She found herself mumbling, yet almost trembling.

"Why, yes," Narcissa replied. "Now, tell me - and do be honest. Do you love my son?"

"I...I..." Pansy stammered, looking back to the face of her mother-in-law. "I...don't know."

The older woman's face remained as calm as the oceans of the Arctic though she pretended to be very interested in a small cake. "I see," she said. "Tell me, have you consummated your marriage?"

Pansy made a small noise of shock.

Narcissa raised a hand. "Answer the question."

"Of course," Pansy replied. "I did my duties to Draco."

The Malfoy matriarch looked away from Pansy again, her gaze now toward the Manor. "Your duties," Narcissa said. "Of course. That is how I thought of it at first. After my first time, I cried, you should know. It was our wedding night. Lucius held me and stroked my hair until I fell asleep - only then did he go back to his own bed. He told me the next morning that our next time together would be of my own choosing. Indeed, it took awhile - nearly six months - but one night, I came to him." She smiled, though her eyes remained diverted. "Why am I telling you this, you might ask? Sharing more than I've ever told another living soul? Your time in bed with Draco - you shouldn't think of it as your duties. It's the opportunity to take what you can enjoy and give what you wish to get what you want. Satisfy a man in bed, and you'll find what you wish easier to obtain."

"I thought you said that you loved Father," Pansy said quietly.

Narcissa looked back to Pansy. "I do."

"But it - I don't mean to be rude, Mother, but it sounds as though you're using it - sex - to manipulate Father." Pansy's cheeks flushed as she spoke.

"And he uses it to manipulate me," Narcissa said with a small laugh. "But neither of us hold it against one another. Come now, Pansy. You're a Slytherin. This certainly cannot be an alien concept to you?"

Pansy did not speak immediately, turning this concept over in her head. She was not sure at all of what to say to Narcissa in the light of all that had been revealed.

"I will tell you this." Narcissa glanced up at the sun above before tugging on the ribbon tied under her chin. The bow came undone, and she removed the hat deftly from her head with gloved fingertips. "Our love is ours, Lucius and I. You have never seen us embrace? You never will, if I have anything to do with it. If you love Draco, your love is yours. Not mine, not Lucius's, and certainly not up for speculation in the papers or among the members of society. These are not the halls of Hogwarts. Take his arm, not his hand. Kisses are for the hands, not the cheeks - even chaste ones. And certainly not meant for the lips. You have married a Malfoy, my dear. There is prestige with the name. A certain...uprightness. And a certain defiance. The papers want to see you and Draco share a kiss in public. You should be unwilling to show them something so personal. Would you hang your undergarments on a clothesline outside of your townhouse for all to see?"

Pansy shook her head, but remained silent.

"There's more, of course." Narcissa held out the hat, and a house elf standing behind her took it silently before slipping back toward the Manor. "Joining the Dark Lord is your choice. Draco, on my command, will not request you to do so. Yes. I spoke to Draco on the manner hours before he married you. He knows the price of defying a request of mine, and he will not. I did so, as I said, because I wish to support Lucius in all that he does. I do not consider this a sacrifice. Many women would."

Pansy looked back to the Manor. Just as she did so, the garden doors opened, and Draco and Lucius walked through them. Their faces were calm but noserious or grave as they spoke quietly, Draco's head slightly inclined toward Lucius, who looked straight ahead as they spoke.

Suddenly, Pansy felt Narcissa grasp her hand. She turned, in surprise, to look at her mother in law. For the first time that afternoon, her visage appeared truly concerned.

"In all of this, know that you have the freedom to love him," Narcissa whispered. "Love him. Love my son."

Pansy, again, said nothing. She only stared back at Narcissa.

The older woman dropped her daughter-in-law's hand and rose. "There you two are," Narcissa murmured as the men drew closer. "I was ready to come in and draw you both out. Staying inside on such a lovely day - why, it's practically a crime."

"Hello, my dear." Lucius Malfoy spoke in identical tones - not to his wife, but to Pansy. He took her hand, brushing his lips across it in an ages-old gesture.

"Hello, Father," Pansy replied. "You look well."

"I pale in comparison to you, my dear," replied Lucius. "Forgive me, but I must speak to Narcissa for a moment. You two will excuse us?"

"Actually, we can't stay much longer," Draco said, speaking up at last. "Mind if I take Pansy through your herb garden, Mother?"

"Please do," Narcissa said, turning her grey eyes to Pansy. She smiled softly. "Do enjoy it, and the rest of the afternoon, my dear. It is truly good to see you both...happy."

Pansy forced a smile onto her lips. "Thank you for the tea, Mother." She inclined her head to place a small kiss on Narcissa's cheek. "I'll see you later."

"Why, I should hope so," Narcissa mused. She turned, taking Lucius's outstretched arm. Then, the elder Malfoys disappeared into the nearby hedge maze.

"Mother has a new breed of rose." Draco offered his arm, and Pansy took it. "It sings. She got it in from South Africa. I thought a singing rose would be a lark."

Pansy laughed lightly as they headed off for a smaller garden surrounded on three sides by a wooden fence. It bordered on one of the walls of the hedge maze, the emerald leaves rising high above their heads. "You couldn't care less for roses, Draco," she said.

"Well, no," Draco replied. "But I thought you'd like to see them."

"A singing rose? I've never seen one. It does sound interesting to me. Do they take requests? I'd like to hear Celestina Warbeck's new single," Pansy quipped.

Draco snickered softly. "You'll have to ask the rose, I wager."

Pansy glanced up at her husband as he opened the garden gate for her. Dressed in black, green, and silver, his hair set back in a ponytail, he for a moment, to her, looked not unlike his father. Is this the man Narcissa saw when she was a little girl? The man she had no choice but to love? Pansy thought. She found herself smiling again. No. He's not his father. He's mine, and I choose to remember that.

"What is it? What are you smiling for?" Draco asked.

"Nothing. Come. Let us see the rose." Pansy took his arm again, and they started through the neatly-arranged rows of magical plants.

"Would you look at that?" Draco dropped Pansy's arm moments after she had taken it, and he moved toward a set of glowing plants that appeared like stars in the dying day, the incoming twilight.

Pansy did not look at Draco's object of interest. Her eyes were fixed at the space of the hedge maze that she could see. Between two hedges there was a small hole where two branches failed to meet, and she could see into one of the front rows of the maze.

She could see Narcissa and Lucius together. Lucius's arms were around Narcissa, his head inclined over hers, their lips locked together in a passionate embrace. Narcissa's fingers were threaded through her husband's hair.

"What are you looking at, Pansy?" Draco inquired.

Pansy turned back to her own husband. "Oh, nothing."

END