Devotion

Narcissa continued to work in the Muggle and Squib Relations Department -- despite Lucius' objections. She grew happier every day she was there, and every evening came home to an unnaturally quiet house. For the first few nights, it had bothered her that Lucius took his dinner in his study and would not even come out to greet her, but she soon grew used to it. She would go days without even seeing him. Those rare occasions when she did, it was a chance encounter in the hallway, or as one of them was coming out of the parlor after Apparating, and neither would ever say anything to the other.

The servants took their cue from their masters, and though they were never a particularly talkative bunch, at least around Narcissa, they tried to be especially quiet as they went about their chores now. It made the house feel even more oppressive, and almost made Narcissa want to scream.

She arrived at the Department every morning in a somber mood, the gloominess of the Manor lingering until she actually started working, when she seemed to miraculously transform. She was helping people, for once in her life, and the goodness she felt inside was apparent to everyone she worked with. Several of them marveled at how different she was in person from the cool society matron that rumors painted her to be, and everyone was glad to have her help.

Narcissa was organizing the departmental progress reports for November when she heard a knock at her door. She looked up and saw Sean Martin's boyish smile. "Sean," she greeted, returning his smile, "good morning."

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," he replied.

"Narcissa," she corrected him, as she had every day since they met. "My name is Narcissa."

"I know that," he said, at least not blushing today. "That's why these reminded me of you." He pulled from behind him a small planter box of flowers with long green stems topped by tiny white blossoms.

"Narcissi," she acknowledged with a gracious smile. Not incredibly clever or original, she mused, but sweet. "Where did you get them?"

"Well, a neighbor of mine grows them," he answered.

"Sean, you can't go picking flowers from someone else's garden!" Narcissa was amazed he would do such a thing.

"No, no, I didn't," Sean shook his head and finally did blush as he walked into the room. "What I meant was, I see them every day, so I was familiar enough with them that I was able to... well, make these." He set them on her desk and his eyes begged for approval.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "Make them?"

Sean rubbed his neck and looked down at his feet. "Well, yeah," he explained, "I tinker with Transfiguration spells and Potions all the time. I like to make things. These were... well, flowers in general are difficult to do correctly." He looked up and gently touched one of the leaves. "It took me a month to get these right," he said softly, obviously pleased with how his creation had turned out.

"A month?" Narcissa asked, hardly believing it. "You've been working on this the whole time I've known you?"

"Well, I started because I wanted to apologize for being an arse that first day I met you." He shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin. "It ended up taking longer than I thought it would to get them right."

Narcissa smiled again. Sean was a good kid, if a bit awkward. "Well, thank you, Sean, that's very sweet. And they smell wonderful." She didn't even have to lean forward to catch the honey-sweet scent.

"That's one of the Potions I used," he explained, obviously pleased that his gift was a success. "Their smell won't fade. And I also made their stems stronger. Normally they're so tall and top-heavy that they need to be supported. But these will stand up on their own."

"You're quite the botanist," she said, suitably impressed.

He shrugged off the compliment. "Not really, I just like to keep working at something until I've got it the way it should be."

Narcissa nodded. "That's an admirable trait."

"Thank you, Mrs..." he ducked his head, "Narcissa."

She smiled. "Thank you, Sean, for that."

"Morning, Cissa," Erinn called as she walked through the doorway. "Oh, hullo Sean," she added upon seeing him.

"Good morning, Miss Whateley. Erinn, yes. Sorry, Erinn," he corrected himself before she could.

"You're young, Sean. Why are you so formal?" Erinn asked as she unwound her muffler and hung it on the coat rack beside the door.

He shrugged. "Just raised that way. My parents taught me to always refer to my elders as Mr. or Mrs. Or Miss, of course. Or Ms... or... whatever," he ended up mumbling. He really did tend to trip over his own tongue sometimes.

"We aren't that much older than you, Sean," Narcissa reminded him.

"Elders and authority figures," Sean corrected.

"But you call Ambrosius by his first name," Erinn prodded.

"Well... you two are... special," he finally admitted, though quietly, his face the deepest shade of red either of them had seen from him.

"Why, thank you, Sean," Erinn said with her biggest smile, which did nothing to lessen his blush.

"Tell us more about your parents," Narcissa changed the subject in an attempt to save him. "You don't speak often of them."

"Oh," Sean seemed grateful for the interruption, "well, I'm half-and-half, as you probably know." The extra color left his face as he sank into one of the chairs facing Narcissa, though he still seemed to purposely avoid looking at Erinn as she perched herself on the edge of her friend's desk. Narcissa shot a glare at her back for making Sean feel so uncomfortable. "Mum's a witch and Dad's a Muggle," he explained. "We lived as Muggles until I received my letter for Hogwarts. I guess they didn't want me to know how much I'd be missing if I had turned out to be a Squib. But it all came out when I got my letter, and they gave me the choice. Well, of course, I chose to become a wizard. I loved magic and was always fascinated by it. It took a while, though, for me to learn that elves and faeries and whatnot aren't like they were in Dad's Muggle faerie tales," he laughed, and Narcissa smiled. From what she understood, Muggles had magical creatures completely wrong.

"They live in Devon," Sean continued. "I wanted them to come live in London, but any time I ask, Mum tells me they don't need looking-after yet."

"That's good of you to offer, though," Erinn offered.

"Yeah," he replied, actually smiling now that Erinn had stopped teasing him. "It's the right thing to do, you know? They took care of me for so many years." Narcissa nodded, knowing in her heart that Draco would not feel the same way if the situation were presented to him. "Well," he slapped his knees and stood up, "I should be getting back to work." He shot a grin at Erinn and turned back to Narcissa. "I hope you enjoy the flowers, Narcissa."

She nodded. "I do, Sean. Thank you again." He smiled and waved as he walked out the door.

Erinn slipped off the desk and leaned in to whisper, "He fancies you," as she walked past Narcissa to her office.

"He does not!" Narcissa declared, following her friend. "That would be ridiculous."

"Why so?" Erinn asked, nonchalantly slipping into her chair.

Narcissa raised her chin. "Well, I'm... older," and she winced when she remembered that she had just told Sean their age difference was not so great.

"But you are still attractive, Cissa," Erinn reminded her.

"Then that must be all he sees; he doesn't even know me," Narcissa protested. You fell in love with Lucius for just that reason, the traitorous part of her mind reminded her, he was handsome and that's all it took.

Erinn shook her head. "Pathetic excuse. You're a good person, and anyone who's seen the way you light up when you're here helping people knows it. What better way to learn about a person's true character than to watch how they treat those around them?" She steepled her fingers and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Next objection?"

"I am married." It was a weak argument, but of all of them, it should have carried the most weight.

"So's your husband," Erinn replied. "Does that stop women from fawning all over him?" She shook her head, bewildered, "Merlin knows why."

Narcissa's eyes darkened. "I am not Lucius, Rinn."

"I agree," Erinn nodded, "You are a much better person than he is, which is why you deserve to be happy." She put her hands down and leaned over her desk. "And there are many different ways to achieve happiness."

Narcissa crossed her arms in indignation. "If you are suggesting that I..." but Erinn interrupted her.

"Flirt?" she nodded. "Allow yourself to enjoy his attention? Yes, I certainly am suggesting that."

Narcissa couldn't believe what her friend was saying. Responding in kind to Lucius' behavior was foolish and dangerous. He distinctly disliked the tables being turned on him. Besides, "It's inappropriate, Rinn."

"I'm not saying you should sleep with Sean, Cissa," Erinn's tone was frustrated. "But he obviously likes you and wants to make you happy, and I think you should let yourself be open to the possibility."

Narcissa shook her head and tried to lighten the situation. "How do you know it's not you he fancies? He did say that both of us were 'special.' Perhaps being nice to me is supposed to impress you."

Erinn laughed. "Oh, come on. Sean was a Hufflepuff, and I think they're patently incapable of being so convoluted and sneaky. Lucius has had you around too many Slytherins, Cissa."

Narcissa couldn't help but smile at Erinn, but then she turned around and with each step she took back to her desk, the expression fell. She had never known Erinn to be given to flights of fancy, but this business with Sean was just... It can't possibly be what Rinn thinks it is, her mind insisted, and she shook her head and returned to her paperwork. Having her thoughts occupied, she soon found herself able to relax again, with the scent of Sean's flowers in every breath.

The next morning, Narcissa was walking to the parlor to Apparate to the Department when she saw Rebecca coming out of Lucius' room.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked. At this hour of the morning, all the servants should have been in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast, or in other areas of the house doing chores. There was no reason for anyone to be near the family's private rooms -- no reason but one.

"Just giving Mr. Malfoy his breakfast," Rebecca replied innocently, but when she turned to walk away, without so much as a nod or a curtsey, Narcissa noticed several strands of her hair were loose, and the girl actually stopped to throw an impudent smirk over her shoulder.

That's it, Narcissa thought, anger boiling inside her. Catting around is one thing, but with servants... She threw open Lucius' door without bothering to knock.

Lucius was still sitting in bed, the covers pulled to his waist but bare-chested, calmly sipping a cup of tea from the breakfast tray Rebecca had, indeed, brought. I hope it's cold by now, Narcissa thought bitterly. Who knows how long it's been sitting there? which only made her expression darker.

"I never thought you would sink so low," she growled, which earned her only a raised eyebrow.

"Good morning, my dear," he said, though his smile fell far short of warm. He continued to drink his tea as if nothing were out of order.

"A servant, Lucius?" She could have screamed. "In our own house?" She wanted to fly at him. How dare he? His unfaithfulness was nothing new, but never before had he sunk to such depths. Never had it felt so deliberately hurtful.

Lucius refused to meet her tone. "What I do, with whom, and where, is my own concern," he replied calmly.

"Not when it causes servants to act above their place," she countered. "And in the past you've at least kept your... indiscretions away from the house, where they belong. Are you trying to humiliate me?"

"Hardly, my dear," Lucius replied, finally setting down his tea and starting to sound weary of their conversation. "It has nothing to do with you, and is none of your concern."

"None of my concern? Something that's happening in my own house, with my husband, is certainly my concern." She had never felt such an urge to break something.

"Sack her if you like," Lucius said with a dismissive flick of his wrist, "it makes no difference to me." He swung his legs out of bed. "Frankly, my dear, I don't understand why you're so upset. You should be used to this by now." He stood up and started to walk to his bathroom, but Narcissa, at least, was not finished with this conversation. She crossed to him and stopped him with a hand on his chest, perhaps harder than was truly necessary.

"I'm upset because of your serious lack of judgment." She poked a finger into his sternum. "How do you think this looks to the other servants? How will it look to your esteemed 'colleagues' if they find out you've been fraternizing with the help?"

He snatched her hand away. "You dare to speak to me of poor judgment, when you flaunt your involvement with that shameful department every day? When you willingly put yourself in a position subservient to a half-blood?"

Narcissa pulled her hand back and lowered her voice. "I have explained to you why I am there," she reminded him.

"And so I will explain something to you," he said, leaning in to whisper, "a man has needs."

She shoved him away from her. "You disgust me." She almost wished he had caught something nasty and virulent from that trollop. Lucius threw his head back and laughed.

Narcissa shook her head and looked at him solemnly. "You don't understand, do you? You're nowhere near the man I once thought Lucius Malfoy was. Infidelity is one thing, but this... this is only self-destructive and petty. You aren't at Hogwarts anymore, Lucius." She left his room and closed the door behind her without a backward glance. She stopped just outside long enough to listen for his footsteps, which did not follow her, and she allowed herself to breathe as her thoughts came back together.

Two months ago I would never have been able to do that, she marveled. Where has this been all my life? She smiled for a moment, until she remembered her next task. Now, for our housekeeper... she thought as she walked down the stairs. Sack her if I like, he says? Oh, I certainly shall, she resolved, and headed to the back of the house. Rebecca was in the garden, and Narcissa couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting for her. She took a deep breath, relaxed her expression, and walked outside.

Rebecca made no move to acknowledge her -- no deference, no curtsey, certainly no greeting -- and watched her approach with eyes that were far too bold. She wasn't always like this, Narcissa remembered. What has Lucius done? Thinking of Lucius raised her ire again, and forceful steps brought her quickly to her housekeeper.

"You," Narcissa said, somehow managing to keep her hands from balling into fists at her sides, "are no longer in the employ of this family."

Anyone else would have quailed, would have bowed obsequiously, begged forgiveness, or accepted with a meek 'yes, ma'am' and fled from her dark mood. But Rebecca, of course, didn't. "You can't sack me," she replied, with that infuriating victorious smirk. "Lucius won't let you."

Narcissa was only slightly amused by her show of bravado. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because he loves me," Rebecca answered smugly, so certain those words would hurt her. But Narcissa, far from being wounded, could have laughed out loud. This creature obviously did not know her husband.

"Really?" Narcissa crossed her arms. "He's told you that?" Now, this should be good...

Rebecca's confident leer faltered. "It doesn't need to be said out loud," she said quickly, and far too defensively to be convincing. "You can see it when he looks at me." Her sneer returned, and Rebecca crossed her own arms. "It's not at all the way he looks at you. You're just something he keeps around to show off at parties."

Despite herself, Narcissa was taken aback. Never in all her life had someone spoken to her like this. Well, no one but Lucius. Damn him for giving her these notions. "You cheeky strumpet..." she managed through her disbelief.

"You hadn't figured that out?" Rebecca crowed. She was growing more pleased with herself every moment. "He can't stand to be in the same room as you. No wonder you only have one child; he's done his duty and he can't bear to touch you anymore."

"That's enough!" Narcissa yelled, and it was all she could do to keep from pummeling Rebecca into the carefully raked gravel. "You know nothing of this family." Her voice was low but by no means soft.

Rebecca shook her head. "I know all I need to, and it's that you are no threat to me."

"You're delusional," Narcissa said. How did it come to this?

"No, you're the one who's delusional," Rebecca pointed an angry finger in her face, "thinking Lucius is in love with you, thinking you're the Lady of this house. Well, I am. I keep this household, I share his bed, I'm his real wife. You're just a brood mare, and a bad one at that."

Narcissa did strike her then, and surprisingly felt no remorse. "And if you think you are anything other than a notch in his bedpost, you are sorely mistaken."

Rebecca still had the audacity to stand her ground. "Lucius will hear of this," she spat.

Narcissa nodded. "Oh, he certainly shall. But he won't care. You see, something I've learned in seventeen years of being Lucius' wife, is that he doesn't care about his playthings. And, believe me, there have been many. Few have lasted longer than a month." Narcissa felt almost certain she knew when this had begun, and so did some goading of her own. "Now, how long have you been playing the harlot for him? About that long?"

Rebecca shrieked and flew at her. She raked her fingernails across Narcissa's cheek and grabbed her hair. Narcissa raised her hands to defend herself, but a voice from behind her shouted, "Enough!" and sparks flew above their heads. Rebecca backed away from her with a shocked and guilty expression, and Narcissa turned to see Lucius standing on the steps to the house. Satisfied, he put his wand down and walked toward them.

"Lucius!" Rebecca cried, and tried to go to him, but he brushed her away. He walked up to Narcissa and wordlessly held out his handkerchief. Her face stung like the devil, but she was almost tempted to refuse out of principle. Then she realized that he was making no attempt to comfort Rebecca. Perhaps a point was being made here. She took the handkerchief as silently as it was offered, and pressed it to her cheek, never taking her eyes off him. Lucius was all outward calm, but Narcissa could see in his eyes that anger was there, simmering just beneath.

It was supposed to be something you could control, wasn't it? she realized. But you're grasping at straws, Lucius. You can't control the human heart.

"Did you do this?" he asked Rebecca, without turning.

"She wanted to sack me," she said petulantly, "she was saying the most awful things about me." Lucius hummed noncommittally, which was good enough for Rebecca, and she shot a victorious grin at Narcissa over his shoulder. The grin faded, though, when Lucius turned to her.

"You have overstepped your bounds," he said simply. Far too simply: even Rebecca realized things were not going her way.

She leaned into his chest and tried to look pleading and innocent. "Lucius, I..."

"Do not be so informal with me. You have struck your employer, and a witch who is by far your superior." He swept around and headed back toward the house. "You will not be receiving a letter of reference," he tossed back at her, and finished with a shrug. "Perhaps some Muggle family will hire you." Rebecca was too stunned to reply.

Life isn't always rolling around in violets, Narcissa thought, and for a moment almost felt sorry for her. She pressed her cheek again to banish any sympathy, and when she spoke, her voice was as cool as Lucius' had ever been, "Be gone within the hour." She followed her husband back to the house, and watched with him as Rebecca shook herself and then ran to the servants' quarters. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Nothing for it," he replied in that casual tone she hated so much. "She was getting above herself. Servants cannot go about attacking their employers."

Of course not, Narcissa thought, making a point not to look at him. Nothing to do with me or my wishes, or the fact that for once you were caught in your indiscretion.

Lucius put long fingers under her chin and turned her face to him, studying the lacerations on her cheek. "She should not have done this," he said almost softly. Was that his attempt at an apology?

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. Not close enough, Lucius, and don't think this is over. "She should not have thought she could."

Lucius pulled his hand away as if she'd burned him. "Are you insinuating this is somehow my fault?"

"It certainly is," Narcissa replied. "The... favor you've shown her has set her apart, and given her these bizarre notions about her place in this household."

"I never granted her liberties," Lucius said.

"Only the liberty to think she was the lady of this house, Lucius." Narcissa tried not to sound as exasperated as she felt. "How did you think a servant would react to such elevation, even if it was only imagined?"

Lucius shrugged dismissively. "Any woman with even moderate intelligence should have been able to see it for what it was," he said.

Narcissa's tone was acid, "Yes, dear, but you never choose your women based on their intelligence, do you?"

He stared daggers at her. He knew it was true and wouldn't dare try to deny it. "I hope the remainder of your day is more pleasant, my dear," he said in icy tones, and stalked away to his study.

Narcissa shook her head and once again headed for the parlor, now much later for work than she wished to be. Not always violets, indeed.