Rating:
R
House:
The Dark Arts
Ships:
Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy
Characters:
Lucius Malfoy Narcissa Malfoy
Genres:
Drama
Era:
1970-1981 (Including Marauders at Hogwarts)
Stats:
Published: 08/01/2007
Updated: 08/01/2007
Words: 591
Chapters: 1
Hits: 565

Lover's Gift

V.M. Bell

Story Summary:
Does he love her? Love, she remembers, is for lesser mortals. Does she love him? She doesn’t know but no doubt there is chemistry. Lucius/Narcissa.

Chapter 01

Chapter Summary:
Does he love her? Love, she remembers, is for lesser mortals. Does she love him? She doesn’t know but no doubt there is chemistry. Lucius/Narcissa.
Posted:
08/01/2007
Hits:
564


Lover's Gift

"Tell me, Narcissa. What do you want?"

She pins him to the grass, his musky scent blending with the smell of evening, early summer, and clover, and kisses him roughly until they both moan from their bruised and bitten lips. She wants to have him, there, here, now, on the Hogwarts grounds but imagines the shock a person would undergo should he or she see them spread out on the grass, screaming and thrusting. Getting up, she straddles his hips and places her hands on his shoulders. She senses him shift beneath her weight and smiles. "What do I want?"

"My dear, you are bothered by something. You Blacks were never good at concealing your emotions."

"Do not insult my family, Lucius." She digs her nails into his flesh, leaving ten scarlet crescent marks on his skin. He grimaces but does not utter a word. "We are as prestigious as the Malfoys."
"Narcissa, you are my family. Have you forgotten?"

"I am not your wife yet, I'll have you know. This can very easily be broken off."

"You wouldn't dare."

She backhands him, muttering to herself, but she grasps that he is right. She'll catch no man higher in society than him, the scion of the Malfoy name and its vast wealth, nor will she ever find a man quite as enigmatic. Does he love her? Love, she remembers, is for lesser mortals. Does she love him? She doesn't know but no doubt there is chemistry. Of what sort, she admits to herself she will probably never know. Perhaps Narcissa is simply a masochist.

"A little Mudblood bastard -- Ravenclaw, I believe -- tried to corner me last week when I was on my way back to the common room and force himself on me," she says. "I managed to -- "

"Narcissa, say no more. What did he look like?"

"No more than a fifth year, I think. Curly brown hair, hazel eyes."

He rolls her over so that her back pushes against the earth. Shivering, she encircles her arms around his neck and pulls him close to her. The world spins, the sun streaks downward, the stars take their ever-fixed positions in the sky, and she breathes and lives. His kiss is light on her forehead as he gets to his feet, brushing the grass off his robes.

"I will deal with this," he tells her and walks away. "I'll return before curfew. Wait here."

Narcissa touches the spot on her skin where his lips grazed by. She imagines the horrified stares of her friends should they ever see her like this, gazing up at the sky like a girl enchanted with her first beau. Slipping her shoes off and letting her hair loose, she wiggles her toes before standing up and wrapping her gossamer white robe tighter about her body. It flutters in the wind as she walks along the edge of the lake's glassy, unbreakable surface. She twists her head to see if anyone is watching her. The castle seems far off. She takes a few more steps until the water is lapping at her ankles, advancing, receding, advancing, receding.

"Narcissa?" She pivots, facing his imperturbable demeanor, the wind whipping her hair around her face. "He'll be writhing in pain when he wakes up tomorrow."

"I never asked you to do that."

He gently lets his hands fall on her waist and clenches her tightly. She hisses with pain and arousal and she presses into him.

"Oh, yes, you did, m'dear," he whispers. "You did."