Dark Horse

RhianEnchanted

Story Summary:
Everyone always complimented Bellatrix's brilliance. No one even considered that her little sister could be just as cunning at getting what she wanted.

Chapter 01

Chapter Summary:
The Malfoy anniversary ball was one of the highlights of the fashionable season. Everyone who was anyone would be there. Including Narcissa Black.
Posted:
07/23/2010
Hits:
55
Author's Note:
Just a little plot bunny that strolled through my brain. And I think I've been watching too many movies from the 1930s, which is what imagine this encounter like in my mind.


October, 1974.

The ballroom was glittering. Hundreds of candles glowed from elegant crystal chandeliers and hovered beneath the gilded ceiling. Graceful women covered in precious jewels seemed to float through the room with effortless ease. Even the house-elves, bearing heavily laden trays of expensive French champagne were impeccably dressed in crisp white togas.

And in one corner, Narcissa Black stood, empty champagne glass in hand, sulking.

She had planned for her debut at the Malfoys' anniversary ball for months. Her dress had been made of the finest Chinese silk, hair styled to perfection, nails manicured. She had even practiced responses to nearly every comment and remark she could imagine. But it had all been in vain. He hadn't even noticed her. There he was, across the ballroom, leaning against the mantelpiece in deep conversation with her bloody sister. It had already been rumored that their betrothal announcement was imminent, and to the scandal mongering pure blood population, this interlude confirmed everything.

She had first seen him at a garden party when she was eight and he nine. Even then, he had been proud and devastatingly handsome, and she had sworn that she would marry him some day. And now, eleven years later, she was no closer to her goal than she had been back then. She huffed and grasped another glass of champagne from a passing house elf.

Over the years, Narcissa had observed Lucius, and she approved of what she saw. He was always calm and self-possessed, never ruffled or lacking composure. He was proud and sophisticated, in contrast to all of the other eligible pureblood males of her acquaintance, who were uncouth, coarse, and ill-bred. Not to mention incredibly stupid. Lucius Malfoy was the only man in the world she could ever dream of marrying. It wasn't love that drew her to him. No, her mother had been very careful to drum into she and her sisters' heads the pitfalls of love. Love, her mother said, made you weak and servile, qualities incomprehensible to a member of the Black family. It was his strength, his unshakable composure, that made him so desirable. To Narcissa, Lucius Malfoy was exactly what the perfect man should be, a far cry from the Goyles, Macnairs, and even the Greengrasses. And now Bellatrix was crushing all of her hopes in one fell swoop.

Narcissa took a calming breath and smoothed the violet silk of her gown. It wouldn't do for a Black to be seen ill composed in public. She knew that her father had been planning a betrothal between Bellatrix and Lucius for years, but that had never deterred Narcissa. She was used to getting what she wanted, and this was no exception. Quickly forming a plan, she walked over to Marguerite Le Blanc and put it in motion. Narcissa had briefly met the girl at the Malfoys' summer fete. She was a pretty, pleasant sort of girl, ridiculously flirtatious, this of course owing to the fact that she was French, but essentially harmless in Narcissa's opinion.

"Is that you, Marguerite?" Narcissa trilled, pasting a cool smile on her face.

"Narcissa! It has been too long," Marguerite replied, kissing the other girl's cheek.

Narcissa carefully steered the conversation in her favor, cooing and simpering at all the right times. She led Marguerite into a discussion of betrothal and marriage, considering each eligible gentleman in the room in turn, finally reaching Lucius.

"The woman speaking with him, who is she?" Marguerite asked.

"Oh, that's my elder sister, Bellatrix. I'm surprised you didn't meet her at the fete," Narcissa replied. "Mother's very concerned that Bella marry this year."

"I can imagine," Marguerite said. "Arranging an acceptable marriage is so important to one's future happiness and social success. I heard," she continued, leaning towards Narcissa, "that the Malfoys are worth more than any family in Britain. Wizarding families, of course," she added. "I wouldn't touch that filthy Muggle money for all of Midas' gold."

Narcissa nodded in agreement, then pounced. "You know," she said casually, "I could have sworn I saw Bella watching your brother Armand earlier. He is very handsome."

Marguerite swelled with pride. "Oh, isn't he? All of the girls in Paris are just mad about him! It was difficult enough for him to get away long enough to come to the Malfoys' anniversary ball this evening. And your sister, she admires him?"

Narcissa gloated. The fool was eating right out of her hand. "I can't be sure, after all Bella is extremely private about such things, but I did see her glance at him a few times."

"Do you think..." Marguerite paused, thoughtful. "I'll tell Armand to ask her to dance." And with that, she flounced across the room to her brother.

Taking up another glass of champagne, Narcissa silently toasted herself. For all of Bellatrix's brilliance, she, Narcissa, was far more cunning.

"Papa didn't call me 'Dark Horse' for nothing, Bella," she murmured to herself.

She watched as the handsome Armand Le Blanc, escorting his sister, strode up to Bellatrix. They spoke, linked arms, and floated to the middle of the room. Narcissa was about to walk toward Lucius when, to her horror, she saw him leading Marguerite out to dance!

"Insufferable minx!" Narcissa swore. All of her plans lay dashed to pieces. Unable to watch any longer, she swiftly wove through the crowd and slipped out onto the wide stone terrace. She moved silently down the stairs and into the lower garden, flopping ungracefully onto the edge of the massive marble fountain. She could have screamed with fury, but extremes in emotion were taboo in the Black family. Emotions were unnecessary, troublesome, and weak. No, she would have to hide everything, pretending to greet Bella's betrothal with a smile. Silently fuming, she slowly forced herself to regain her composure. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she finally began to calm herself. Then she downed the entire glass of champagne in her hand in one unladylike swallow. Tossing it into the fountain, she heard it shatter with satisfaction.

"Those cost ten Galleons apiece, you know," a dry voice said as its owner emerged from the shadows.

"Sod off," Narcissa said irritably, turning her back to the man. Apparently she had not calmed herself as much as she had thought.

"Seeing as your sister is supposed to be inheriting them, I hope you would care about her future possessions."

Narcissa whirled around and stood face to face with Lucius Malfoy. Unable to keep herself from blushing with anger and embarrassement, she turned away and started down the path into the rose garden.

"It occurred to me that you might be jealous," Lucius continued, following her down the path.

Narcissa tried to walk faster, but the quantity of champagne she had consumed, coupled with the rather high heels of her shoes, caused her to stumble slightly. Before she knew what had happened, Lucius had caught her in his arms, holding her against him. Her breath caught slightly, but she recovered quickly.

"Let me go, you brute," she protested, pushing against his chest with her forearms.

Lucius laughed. Not a false, patronizing laugh, but a real, honest one. "Brute?" he asked. "I saved you from falling and soiling your lovely gown, and you call me a brute?"

Narcissa finally extracted herself from his grasp. "I stand by what I said," she stated loftily. "You, sir, are a brute." She smoothed the front of her dress and continued down the path.

Lucius trotted a few steps ahead, and walked backwards to face her. "You're just angry because I was speaking with Bellatrix and danced with Marguerite Le Blanc." He stopped, causing Narcissa to halt quickly to avoid crashing into him again. "I think you wish that I had been paying attention to you."

She laughed harshly. "Really? I think you should stop being so self centered. I have never had any desire for you to pay the least bit of attention to me. In fact, I wish you would go away right now."

"And leave you to get lost in the garden and be mauled by the peacocks?" Lucius said with a chuckle. "It would be most ungallant."

"Then what do you want?" Narcissa exclaimed, too furious and inebriated to remember her plans to marry Lucius.

He shrugged. "A kiss."

Shocked, Narcissa instinctively slapped him. Pureblood witches were forbidden to kiss any man until their wedding day.

Lucius rubbed his sore cheek. "Why would you want to slap your fiancée?" he said.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" she replied fiercely.

"Language," he tutted mockingly. "I was merely saying that it isn't very polite to slap your fiancée."

"Fiancee?" she echoed bewilderingly.

"That is, if you'll have me," he said. "Rather sudden, but I do want you to say yes."

Narcissa stood, completely stunned.

"A Black losing composure?" Lucius teased. "My, my."

"You have never shown the slightest interest in me," Narcissa half asked, half protested.

"Oh, but I have watched you. Ever since we were children, I've watched you." He put his hands into his pockets and began casually pacing the rose garden. "Bellatrix is certainly beautiful and talented, and one of the most powerful witches in the past few centuries, but she also knows it. She's too forceful for my tastes. She's going to marry a man she can dominate, and it isn't going to be me." He circled her like a bird of prey. "But you, you're quite talented too. And even better, you're cunning. You can make others do your bidding without them even knowing it, like you just did with Marguerite. That's what I admire."

"You do?" Narcissa asked, trying to hide the bewilderment from her voice.

"I do," he replied. "I think that we could do great things together. You know, the Dark Lord is rising. Soon, we're going to be strong enough to destroy all of those filthy mudbloods once and for all. And I want you to be beside me when it happens."

It was a rather unromantic declaration of intentions, but Narcissa had been brought up not to expect such frivolity. And it was certainly a tantalizing proposition. Lucius had been rising quickly through the Dark Lord's ranks, and she suddenly envisioned herself the queen of the new wizarding world, reigning above all of the other pureblood witches.

Quickly shaking off the daydream, Narcissa considered Lucius carefully. He was, to be sure, extremely cunning. If he wanted to marry her, there must be some ulterior motive. What would he gain from the match? Deciding to go for broke, she faced him.

"And how exactly would you benefit from all of this?" she asked him coolly.

Lucius leaned back and stared at her with mild surprise. "A beautiful wife from one of the oldest and best connected families in Britain? A wife with intelligence and cunning, not to mention good breeding?" He paused. "And what will you gain from our alliance? Access to the Malfoy fortune, a husband who is well connected and rising in influence every day, power beyond your imagination? And the manor rather pleasant as well," he added as an afterthought.

"So are you saying that I am gaining more from this than you?" Narcissa said calculatingly. "Shall I be indebted towards you for deigning to sink to my level? Yes, the Black fortune is not as great as yours, but we too are powerful. And Bellatrix has found favor with the Dark Lord as well. Do not think that you are the only one to benefit from his kindness."

Lucius stepped back in shock. Any other woman would have leapt at the chance of becoming his bride. They wouldn't have even dreamed of questioning his motives. But Narcissa... obviously this wasn't going to be as simple as he thought.

"I am more than those petty little simpletons in there," she continued, gesturing back at the manor. "I am not merely a pretty, preening witch to warm your bed. I am your equal in birth, rank, and intelligence." She stopped and glared up at him.

He cleared his throat quietly. Never in his life had he been addressed in this manner. He had been flattered and admired always, never admonished. He knew he should be furious at such treatment, but his reaction was quite the opposite. Instead, emboldened by the passion sparking in Narcissa's eyes, he leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Instead of slapping him again, she reciprocated his gesture. After a few moments, they parted. "I will consent to marry you," she murmured, "but only if you accept me as your equal."

Lucius grinned down at her. "Agreed," he said, stepping back and offering her his hand. They shook hands and walked calmly back up the path towards the manor.

**********

Several days later Lucius emerged from the study at the Black family home. Narcissa silently emerged from the shadows and took his arm.

"I suppose this means I'll have to have the goblins deliver the family jewels from Gringotts," he mused.

"Only the diamonds," Narcissa said. "Everything else is too vulgar."

Lucius smiled. "Naturally, darling. Care for a stroll? Your mother said that your cousin Clytemnestra will chaperone."

"Of course," she replied, taking a parasol from the hands of a house elf.

Together they strolled down the street, intent on conquering the world.