Ice

AN: I am, as always, indebted to my *amazing* beta, Stevie The Queen of Grammar and Awesomeness.

Also, thank you to Kirixchi and Aulizia for the use of "The Glass Slipper".

Chapter 6: "It's lonely here, there's no one left to torture."--Leonard Cohen, The Future

Diagon Alley was crowded with witches and wizards hurrying along in the brisk October night as Narcissa and Lucius made their way down the winding streets. Narcissa, warm in her fur-lined coat and slightly relaxed from the excellent red wine they'd consumed at dinner, held lightly to Lucius' arm. He'd taken her to the Glass Slipper, one of the most expensive restaurants in Wizarding England.

At dinner he'd smiled at her from across the table, but as with his practiced gestures, it did not reach his eyes. She thought about remarking on that fact but kept the information to herself. They played an interesting game, she and Malfoy, and she was not quite ready to call him out and end it quite so soon. His practiced caresses did nothing to move her, as used as she was to the infinite social graces that he employed so effortlessly. Narcissa refused to be won quite so easily--if indeed it was his intent to "win" her.

"Have you been here before?" he'd asked in that smooth voice as he was idly sipping his wine.

"I have," responded Narcissa, sitting straight and proper in her chair. She had spied a table of young witches and wizards across the room where the women were slouched in their chairs and had frowned at their inappropriate behavior. Really, how did they expect to be taken seriously if they lounged about as if they were draped over the furniture in the Hogwarts common room? "My father brought us here when Bellatrix announced her engagement."

She remembered that night, of course. Her parents were not thrilled at Bella's engagement but had to put a good face on it and act as if they were delighted at the prospect of Bellatrix marrying Rodolphus Lestrange. The dinner foray to the Glass Slipper was more of a calculated statement to society to that effect than a testament to her parent's happiness over their daughter's forthcoming marriage.

"Ah, of course. No doubt they were thrilled," he had purred, watching her with gleaming eyes.

"Of course," she'd said evenly, picking up her wine glass and widening her eyes. "Why ever would they not have been? Rodolphus comes from an excellent family, of course." She saw a flicker of annoyance in his eyes and suspected it was because she had fallen just as easily into the proper young pureblood witch role as he had descending into the gentleman. He was not the only one adept at such skills, and it was best he not forget that.

"Even though Lestrange senior has whittled away the family finances on gambling and whores?" he asked without a change of expression, his voice still that evenly moderated tone. Narcissa had tried not to choke on the wine she'd just sipped. Her eyes flew to his, and before she could stop herself, she'd grinned. "That is hardly an appropriate thing to say to a lady, now is it, Mr. Malfoy?"

He smirked and raised his glass to her in a mock salute. "Ah, but I am hardly an appropriate man, now am I, Miss Black?"

They had stared at each other across the table, something heavy in the air between them. She had watched his mask slip for a moment and saw the lean, hungry look on his face. She was not sure if that look was intended for her or for something else entirely. Narcissa was fairly certain Malfoy was as bored with the staid, proper wizarding society as she was.

She thought about that as they strolled through the alley, silence between them. Oddly, it was not uncomfortable. Perhaps I am just as rebellious as Bellatrix and Andromeda in my own way, she thought, peeking up at Malfoy's aristocratic profile. He was handsome and wealthy, and his lineage was impeccable. Outwardly no one would have any idea she was rebelling at all; in fact, she was fairly certain that everyone would see her as the one Black sister who was not throwing her life away on an inappropriate man. Of course, anyone with any sense should know the dangerous blond wizard was hardly respectable company for a woman such as herself to keep, privileged though he may be. Her parents had so far had no objection to his courtship, although Narcissa had been exceedingly careful to evade their rather pointed questions about the nature of their relationship. Not to mention, she herself was not sure exactly what that was.

"Have you ever been to Knockturn Alley?" he asked her in his smooth drawl as they passed Gringotts. Narcissa was not fond of Malfoy when he reverted to condescending-aristocrat mode, but his words sparked an interest in her.

"Of course not," she said in a sweet tone. "It is hardly the kind of place I care to frequent."

He looked down at her, smirk in place. "How do you know if you've never been there?" he drawled and pulled her toward the entrance to Knockturn Alleys. As they walked through, Narcissa felt a flare of excitement, although she masked it with a bored expression as he stared down at her and awaited her reaction.

"How delightfully teenage-rebellious of you," she said with a sniff, and he actually laughed at her.

"Indeed," was all he said, but she looked about curiously as they entered Knockturn Alley.

It was certainly not as busy as they street they had just vacated. There seemed to be an aura of sinister intent hanging over the place, a gloom that had nothing to do with the darkness of the night. Narcissa banked down that treacherous feeling of excitement and tried not to gape at her surroundings. It would not do to let Malfoy know he'd impressed her by merely bringing her to some disreputable alley.

They walked slowly through the alley, and Narcissa's heart was pounding as they progressed further into the street, the bustle and lights of Diagon Alley far behind them. They passed Borgin & Burkes, and Narcissa peered into the grimy windows and noticed the figure of a man standing behind a counter. He was outlined by the light from a single lamp. "Is this place open?" she asked, surprised. It was well after ten; hardly any of the shops stayed open that late.

"Borgin's is never actually closed," Malfoy said sarcastically, and they continued walking. "If you require their...products...Mr. Borgin will be happy to sell them to you no matter what time of day it is."

"I shall not ask you how you know that, Mr. Malfoy," Narcissa teased and smiled up at him. He stopped for a moment, and the dim lights of the alley cast an odd shadow on his face. She was reminded of the night she had encountered him at the McNair's on the terrace and his face was shadowed in just that same way. It thrilled her when he looked down at her with that cold expression, and she wondered idly why that should be so.

"I shall not bother to provide you with an answer, then, Miss Black," he said, his voice low and slightly husky. She stared up at him, and when her pulse started to race this time, she knew it was not from their location.

He bent his head towards her, and, swaying towards him, she sucked in a breath. He was far enough away from her that she saw him smirk. Damn that infernal arrogant bastard, Narcissa thought, horrified that the thought sounded almost fond in her head.

Suddenly, a hand clamped on her arm, and she shrieked as she was pulled into a side alley. "Come on, luv, give me yer pretty jewels, and you can rejoin yer gentleman friend," a voice rasped in her ear, and Narcissa reached for her wand.

"I shall do no such thing, you--"

Before she could hex him with one of the admittedly handy hexes Bellatrix had taught her, he backhanded her.

Narcissa Black had never been struck once in her entire life. Andromeda would never have done such a thing to her adored little sister, and physical violence was always Bella's last resort after she had exhausted a number of other magical options. Narcissa fell down with her back against the wall and winced at the pain in her jaw.

"I ain't playin' around, you bitch," he hissed and took a threatening step towards her. Narcissa fumbled for her wand, but she heard a hissed "Imperio" and turned to see Malfoy standing in the entrance to the side alley.

He looked furious. His eyes were narrowed as he pointed his wand at her assailant, stalking like some deadly animal towards the man who remained motionless before her.

"Did he strike you?"

Narcissa paused a moment before answering. His voice sounded so deadly she was almost afraid of him. "Y--yes," she said, forcing herself to stand up. She would not cower before anyone, be it a pitiful excuse for a human being or a Malfoy in a temper.

"A shame for him, then," he said, and to Narcissa's surprise, Lucius stepped forward and viciously kicked the man in the knee. "Perhaps you should lie on the ground like the useless trash that you are," Lucius hissed. Still under Malfoy's Imperius curse, he immediately complied, groaning softly and clutching at his stomach. Lucius waved his wand and said softly, "Crucio." The man screamed in pain. Narcissa stepped back with her back braced against the wall, unable to look away. The thought crossed her mind that he was innately skilled with that curse.

"Shall I kill him for you, Narcissa?" Lucius asked her dispassionately. Narcissa noted absently, That's the first time he's called me by my first name. He kept his wand pointed at the man writhing on the ground, but he averted his focus to her. Narcissa's eyes clashed with his, and she was struck not by what she saw in his slate eyes but what she did not see.

There was no hint of remorse in Malfoy's gaze, not the slightest indication that he felt any spark of trepidation in using two Unforgivable Curses and was quite willing, if she understood him correctly, to use the worst and final one on a man who had done nothing save strike her and attempt to steal her jewelry.

Despite herself, Narcissa felt a strange thrill. This man's life is in my hands, she thought wildly, and he lives and dies by my desire. She almost hated herself for sudden rush of power she felt, and for a second she wanted Lucius to do it, to kill the man who even now lay screaming in pain at her feet. She opened her mouth to tell him to do so, but a sudden thought stopped her. She did not want Malfoy to go to Azkaban. Narcissa felt he had too much potential and that locking him away in the island prison would be a shame. She was well aware there should be some other reason she did not want Lucius to kill her attacker, but she was unable to fathom what that might be at the moment.

"No," she said archly, her voice cool. "I shouldn't think that would be necessary. One day, he'll no doubt receive his just reward for all his efforts," she sneered, trembling with a mixture of adrenaline, fear and the sudden rush of power she had felt. Lucius shrugged and halted the curse with a negligent wave of his wand.

"As my lady wishes," he said coolly, and then she watched his face screw up into an expression of masked fury, and he kicked the man squarely in the ribs. The man screamed again, and Lucius stepped over him to take Narcissa's arm. "Shall we?"

Narcissa arched a brow, collecting herself. "One moment," she said and reached up to take one of her diamond studs out of her ear. They were lovely but hardly priceless; she had many such trinkets at home. She tossed the earring down at the man and said coolly, "For all your trouble, sir. I hope it is well worth the pain you suffered to earn it."

The man muttered something Narcissa did not hear as Lucius suddenly reached out and pulled her further down the side alley and forced her roughly against the wall. And then, for the first time, he kissed her.

She was unprepared for the violence of his kiss. His mouth bit at hers, and she raised her arms intending to place them on his shoulders, but he forced them above her head and pressed them to the rough stone behind her. He was tall and lean, but he possessed an impressive strength and easily held her captive against the wall. Narcissa moaned, unable to help herself, as her mouth parted under his ruthless assault. Continuing to kiss her, he let one of her hands go and pulled her hard against him. She found herself flush against his body, and she buried her newly freed hand in his hair, which she pulled at almost violently. She could feel his body, hard and firm beneath her robes, and was terrified and exhilarated at the same time--a feeling not unlike the reaction she'd had earlier to his offer to kill the thief who had dared to strike her.

That should have warned her, but she could not stop kissing him, responding to him or pressing herself closer to him. She winced suddenly as he nipped her lip in his passion, and he pulled back to stare at her. His eyes were no longer soulless and cold as they had been during their earlier violent encounter but rather burned with lust and something else. Something darker and infinitely more appealing to her, although Narcissa could not deny feeling gratified at his lust as he was not the only one in the grip of that particular emotion. His breathing was harsh and irregular, and several strands of his white-blonde hair had escaped his neat queue to frame his savagely beautiful face. He stared at her as if he wanted to devour her, and she felt her knees weaken and leaned back against the wall again. If had wanted to take her there, against a wall in Knockturn Alley after he had tortured a man, she was not certain she would want to stop him.

She tasted a coppery taste and realized her lip was bleeding slightly. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and heard him suck in his breath sharply at her actions. Her eyes flew to his, and they stared at each other for a long moment saying nothing. Lucius finally shook his head as if clearing it and reached into his robes to hand her a small white square cloth. "Here," he said, and she noted his voice did not sound quite steady. As she reached out one shaking hand to take it, she noticed her hands were not the only ones that were unsteady.

"Thank you," she said, her voice raspy in the darkness. She pressed the handkerchief to her mouth.

The adrenaline was slowly leaving her, and her jaw started to ache where her would-be robber had struck her. Knowing there would be a frightful bruise there in a few hours, she pressed a hand to it and winced.

"You should have that looked at," he said, and she noted his voice had still not returned to normal. Almost as if he was fighting some inner instinct not to, he took a step forward to her and trailed the back of his hand over her jaw lightly. The touch made her gasp but not in pain. He dropped his hand, although they found themselves locked in another one of those poignant stares for a few moments before he held his arm out for her. "Come along, Miss Black, let's have that taken care of before you bruise," he said, and she grasped his arm and nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said in a voice as even as his, and they walked out of the alley. She paused as they passed by where her attacker had lain and looked up at him. "What shall you do if he goes to the police?"

Lucius smirked down at her. "He won't," he assured her. "And if he does, why, I have a witness claiming you were attacked, do I not? Surely no one would fault me for defending my lady's honor," he said in mock offense.

Narcissa was unable to stop her giggle, although she was mildly horrified at what was making her do so as well as the fact that she giggled in front of Malfoy at all. "I believe the use of two Unforgivable Curses qualifies as a bit more than 'defending my honor,'" she said. He leaned down and put his finger against her lips.

"Shh," he said in a sinister-sounding whisper. "Never fear, my lady Narcissa. I am quite sure we won't be bothered by him again."

Narcissa was grateful that he Apparated them both back to her home rather than requiring them to walk back through Diagon Alley in such a state. Lucius' hair was still unkempt, and she was sure her face looked dreadful. She was certain Bellatrix would have something to keep her skin from bruising and resolved to floo her immediately after returning.

Lucius walked her to her front door, and she smiled at him. "Thank you for a very....interesting evening, Mr. Malfoy," she teased him.

"My pleasure, Miss Black," he said smoothly, bowing neatly to her. It caused his hair to fall in his face again, and she reached up to tuck the lose strands behind his ears almost without thinking about it.

His trademark smirk vanished for a moment as his face became serious, and he again reached out to touch her reddened jaw. He pressed oh so slightly on the wound, and the slight pain made her knees weak again. What on earth is the matter with me? He reached up to briefly caress her left ear, bereft of its diamond earring. Narcissa saw a brief flash of anger on his face, but when he spoke, his words were hushed and without rancor. "It is a shame something so beautiful had to be so cruelly abandoned," he said, but she heard a suppressed excitement in his voice she did not understand.

" 'Tis just an earring, Lucius," she whispered, captured by his suddenly burning gaze, using his first name unconsciously.

Dropping his hand, he smirked again and stepped away from her. "I wasn't talking about the earring," he whispered, and he nodded once to her before turning on his heel and walking down the stairs. He turned back at the bottom of the stairs and said in a low voice, "Incidentally, do not worry about the diamond, Narcissa. I shall replace it." Staring bemusedly, she stayed on the porch until she heard the sharp crack of him Apparating home.

Narcissa turned to go into the house. She went immediately to the fireplace to floo her sister for an ointment suggestion for her bruised jaw. (Bellatrix had always been gifted in potions; Narcissa privately thought it a shame her talents were concentrated solely on other types of magic.) Before she tossed the green powder into the grate to summon her sister, she touched her swollen lip gently and decided to leave it exactly as it was.

She reached back to toss the powder, and a thought careened into her mind without warning. It caused her to almost drop her handful of floo powder in surprise.

I am going to marry Lucius Malfoy.