ofblackdaffodil

[ofblackdaffodil]

vanityofsnakes·:

“And who exactly sit that you speak for, Narcissa?” She raised an eyebrow. Was the girl speaking to laws that offended her family, or her community, or the Dark Lord himself? “I believe that there are wizarding laws that are quite unsuitable for everyone on occasion.” She knew that the lead in was meant to grab her attention. It was a game she had played with the blonde in front of her for many years. “I think we both know who might want to put my skills to use for tasks that are better left unspoken, do we not?” She shook her head, as if she couldn’t quite say something. “I believe that maybe a task needs carried out for the betterment of our society and I may be the one to preform it.” She smiled. She was more than happy to be a foot soldier while Narcissa played around in politics.

          « Isn’t this part of the mystery ? » She asked, humming softly. This was the thing about Narcissa, her words might be filled with mischiefs, but her eyes and overall demeanour remained perfectly cool, collected — The pristine reflection of pureblood excellence, an image more than a woman. « Though I am sure you might figure it out quite easily. After all, the Black name is an insitution in our community. It would be a shame to not live up to the expectations which go with this status. » Perhaps not the most straightforward answer, but an answer nonetheless — And, with how little Emma was giving her in return, keeping some cards close to her chest did not seem like a terrible idea. Not that she expected anything less from Emma. Both women had known each other long enough by now, surprise did not seem within the realm of possibilities for them. « Perhaps we both know. Though this hardly tells me what you might do with your skills. Surely, this betterment concerns me as well, and you might be able to enlighten me about it ? »

[ofblackdaffodil]

vanityofsnakes·:

September. 1997.

“Draco seems to be under the impression that he’s unable to speak to anyone, including me. Which ought to be complete and utter rubbish, having him carry out some order that he’s not even allowed to speak of with his own household.” Her anger was clear, though she didn’t really think it was meant to be directed at Narcissa. It was more fear for the only person she truly knew as a sibling, and desire to be kept in the loop with her family. “You lot seem to know everything. Am I part of this family or am i not?” There was a painful challenge in her eyes as they flipped back and forth between Lucius and Narcissa. she had finally gotten to meet her mother after the breakout last year, but it had been brief, as her mother was recaptured only months later. Still, the brief meeting had stirred something in Arabella, making her far more feisty and full of attitude than usual. “we’re at war already, we all know it’s true. I am either a soldier or a victim, but I will not be a bystander.”

          Arabella’s anger was directed at the wrong people. This was not something Narcissa was allowed to say, however ( or even, indeed, to think — But at the very least, her thoughts were still her own and could not be controlled ). Her face contorted in a sad expression, lips thinning not because of the lack of words but due to all the words she could not ( would not ) say out loud. « Of course you are a part of this family. The day your mother handed you to me, I welcomed you as my own and nothing will change that. » She supposed she could not blame Arabella for asking, though the question felt like a cheap attempt at hurting them ( a reminder that this could all be taken away, that Emma had every right to claim the girl as her daughter especially after they won the war. If they won the war ). « I am aware this must seem like a uselessly worrying burden to you. I don’t expect you to feel otherwise. However, you do not have to fight until it is required of you. Accept that this is not yet your burden, and that I intend to protect you for as long as I possibly can. » Being a soldier was not all that it was cracked up to be.

[ofblackdaffodil]

thelordlestrange·:

There was something hinted at the edges of his smile–unnamed, this elusive emotion dancing recklessly between melancholy and righteousness. For he was a beacon of justice and nobility. Even as this Ministry meant to throw him into prison, Rodolphus knew himself. He knew the darkness and the light within; he felt the power. His life was one to be sacrificed in perpetuity to their most noble purist cause. 

« I know. »  The slightest of nods acknowledged Narcissa’s assertion. She was not wrong. To come here had the potential to complicate matters. But he had come with a purpose. The man meant to tell his almost sister his intention for the trial. He would step before the blade and be the shield this family needed. Bellatrix had failed to be any sort of wife to him. He had no son to carry on the Lestrange line, but Narcissa was the better wife–the better woman. Envy twisted in the darkest recesses of his heart. 

There was nothing to be gained from this coveting. Perhaps Bella would be sentenced to the kiss and someday he could take a better wife. This that he meant to do would be karma in his favor. Perhaps the Fates would notice and smile upon him. 

Rodolphus found comfort in the fact that even now Narcissa kept with polite conversation, minding manners and decorum. « There are limitations to where I may go. »  The Lestrange was confined to the United Kingdom and he had only a dozen hours of freedom left now. He did not expound upon the charm that had been cast over him. While the magic was not unbreakable, it was complex, too much so to be undone in the time he had before he was due before the Wizengamot. Not that he had any intention of attempting escape… Rodolphus would go before the court and he would acknowledge the acts they proclaimed as crimes. There was more that he would take on, as well–and it was on Narcissa to corroborate details of his story. 

Again the man nodded, this time the action served as a response to the Lady Malfoy’s question rather than an assertion. « There is. » That complicate half smile turned up the corner of his lips again, contradicting the disconsolate shadows in his azure eyes.   « I will not make a defense. I will acknowledge willful and deliberate participation in that which I am accused of. Further, I mean to include your husband’s name on the list of those I held under the influence of the Imperius. I shall claim my wife’s relation to you gave me access to him with the regularity that was necessary to maintain the curse. » Rodolphus spoke these words softly, laying them out as a gift to the woman. Would she see them as such? Could she understand why he would choose to do such a thing? Did she perceive the hope he placed in her family–in her son? 

It would be an easy lie to weave into the tapestry of truth he meant to lay before the court. His work in the Thought chambers of the Department of Mysteries were known by some of the members. His proficiency with the Imperius had even been experienced by certain members. His talent was established. He’d held many key officials under his will during the war. Victory should have been theirs. Perhaps it would have been if they had not been led by a halfblood rather than a proper purist patrician. Power and charm, Voldemort had plenty; perspicacity, though, the man had lacked. Far too late now, though, to commiserate such a mistake- The die had long been cast.

          He knew. That simple answer might not have meant much for most ( and, definitely, was rather complex in itself, an acknowledgement but not an agreement. Not really ) but it was just enough for Narcissa’s grip on Draco to genuinely soften, the toddler fussing around to try to be let out on the floor, where toys were waiting for him. Bellatrix might have been Narcissa’s sister ( and Narcissa was nothing if not loyal and caring to her family ), but she had felt miles away from the oldest’s machinations and beliefs and drive that it was easy to forget Bellatrix’s influence did not truly extend past her own mind. This would be her downfall at the trial, a bitter fall from grace that the blonde could not stand to think about ( this was her sister ) but could hardly oppose ( the Malfoys had her loyalty now ). Rodolphus was different — His presence imposing but logical, not as fanatically driven as her sister’s. If for years the witch had let her opinion of him be clouded by Bella’s own partial truths and lies, this was long gone now.

         Perhaps, she sometimes thought, Rodolphus would had deserved better than her sister for a wife — A lady, not a soldier. Though Bellatrix might think she was both, common decorum and the proper manners Druella had taught her daughters both suggested otherwise. Her wedding to the dark-haired man was therefore doomed from the start — Her, a soldier who refused to need anyone and him, who Narcissa felt needed to be needed more than he might admit. Not that the blonde would ever allow herself to think these thoughts aloud. She knew all too well the damages they could do, and this would hardly turn an unfair situation into a fair one. ( Except, of course, that the unfairness had gone too far, and they would both be sentenced to Azkaban, and Narcissa could not and would not do anything against this either. )

         This is why it had not come entirely as a shock, that they had gotten arrested and Rodolphus had seemingly not fought his fate. The unfairness of it all was undeniable.

         Softly, the blonde set her son down on the woollen rug which laid in contrast to the manor’s marble floors, trained blue eyes making sure whatever had caught his attention was not something which could potentially harm him before turning her attention back to her brother-in-law. « Limitations ? » she repeated, trying to keep the tone conversational — As if they were talking about the weathers, instead of the conditions of Rodolphus’ limited freedom. « Do they genuinely believe these work ? »

         His smile caught her off-guard, the contrast between his lips and gaze a prelude to news she could tell were important. Her expression froze at his next words. Could he tell her heart skipped a beat in relief at the prospect Lucius would get home safe ? And, more importantly, could he tell that despite her joy, she still considered this a wretched solution ?

         She was aware, of course, that she could not save everyone. Narcissa had made peace with that a long time ago when she had chosen Lucius, and then again when she had given birth to Draco. They were her priority, even if this involved burning other bridges, but this did not mean the blonde wanted to see the rest of her family in Azkaban. She would have wanted them to save themselves — She would have wanted Rodolphus to save himself. Perhaps this had been naïve. Perhaps it was better this way — Her husband got out unscathed, her son was safe. Cold hand still reached for Rodolphus’ to squeeze it lightly, as if to be certain he was sure of what he was offering and to ascertain for herself what kinds of strings this might entail. Rodolphus was giving her her life on a silver platter. He must have known this — And perhaps even wanted something in return. « You would do that ? »

         « Would it be terribly rude of me to ask why ? » Her tone was less conversational than before, voice softly falling to an almost whisper which sometimes got caught in her throat as she considered the implications of it all, willing her heart and her brain to work together. « Thank you. I fail to see how we could ever repay you such a gesture but be assured you would at the very least have my gratitude. » This would not mean much in front of the Dementors, but it was still a token — A possibility that the Lestranges would have somewhere to go, should they ever find their way out of this place. « Though, I must mention — They might ask you then why you cursed my husband and not me. It might be wise to have an answer for that as well. » It would be wiser for Rodolphus to save himself, but she felt they both knew that already.

fall farewells | au

[ofblackdaffodil]

fallenstar-andromeda·:

Andromeda had just gotten Teddy down for a nap, finding herself quite exhausted. She hadn’t planned on taking care of a child at her age. She was supposed to get to be his grandmother, to spoil the boy and then send him on his way with his parents. But his parents, her daughter, was gone. All that remained was their son and Andromeda once again had to be a parent. He was beginning to look so much like Nymphandora that it made her heart both soar and break.

She hadn’t been expecting company. Very few people stopped by, nowadays. At first when the war had just ended and she had lost so much - husband, daughter, friends - people had come nearly everyday. It honestly had drove her a bit crazy, she understood it, but she could take care of herself. She had to.

Nonetheless, she moved to the door, passing the walls filled with pictures. She was surprised to see Narcissa Malfoy on the other side and she was sure the expression she wore showed it. After taking a moment to stare and to comprehend that she was actually seeing her sister in front of her, she moved aside with a nod. “Sure. Come in, I will put a kettle on for us.” As her sister moved past her and she pushed the door closed, she realized that this was the first time the other had ever been to her home. “We can sit in the kitchen.” She moved forward, allowing Narcissa to follow her, trying to figure out what she was doing here in the first place.

          It was a completely different thing, of course — To think about going to see her sister, imagining what it would be like, and then finally seeing her in person ( more real than anything Narcissa’s mind had made up ). In a sense, it felt almost anti-climactic to be invited inside. Not that the blonde was ungrateful for her older sister making this easy, but she would have expected anger ( rightful, sour anger ) from Andy. Or perhaps disillusion or bitterness. There was none of that, only surprise and the confirmation ( if she needed any ) that her estranged sister was a far better ( kinder ) person that she could ever be or hope to be. 

         Narcissa Malfoy did not deserve that kindness, but was thankful for it all the same. 

         « Thank you, » soft voice provided before going in. She took her time to walk in, blue eyes going over every corner of the place, every little detail, as if the entire house had been a foreign concept to her. This was Andromeda, now — And Andromeda’s life, and house, and home. The realization came decades too late, but it was there all the same, the very foreign reflection of someone the blonde had grown up with. Eventually, she followed Andromeda to her kitchen with a nod of her head, sitting down on one of the chairs. 

         « How are you ? » The question felt incredibly out of place — Of course, Andromeda was not well. From what the blonde had heard, her world ( her family ) had crumbled around her. Still, her own voice was gentle, unsure. « Considering everything, I mean. How are you and — is there anything I can do ? » She hadn’t expected to ask this question ( at least not so soon ), but it felt like the most important thing to say. She was here because she wanted her sister back, yes ( selfishly, because she needed her family after all of this ), but when Andy had every right to hate her, she would still want to help.

[ofblackdaffodil]

severus-tobias·:

Severus nodded in agreement while Narcissa spoke. The idea of voicing his annoyance toward the people that were frequenting the apothecary had briefly come to mind but he knew it wasn’t the best of places to do such a thing. He settled on wrinkling his nose and giving another nod. “I suppose so,” He sighed. “The owner had me handing out pamphlets for safe potion practices.” Having had to keep a cheery expression for the duration of that workweek still had the muscles in his face aching.

He gave a groan of annoyance and took a few more bites of food, not looking at Narcissa as he chewed the bits of chicken. He had made a decent indent on the meal but had a feeling Narcissa would say something if it looked like he wasn’t taking care of himself. “Give me another minute,” Severus grumbled. A few more bites of food were needed then he scooped what was left into the takeout box. He couldn’t guarantee he’d remember to eat it but he had recently emptied his icebox so it wouldn’t go to waste this time around. “I’ll save it for tomorrow.”

He gave a nod when he caught Narcissa’s gesture toward his plate, expression growing sheepish when he went to speak again. “I got it sorted but thank you. I really ought to look into properly fending for myself but the flat doesn’t decent storage space. Even if I were to charm a bit of extra room.”

          « The owner asked you ? To hand out pamphlets ? » If anything, the concept had made the more solemn ( business-like ) expression fall from Narcissa’s face, as if for a second she could allow herself to be a twenty-something years old at a bar with a friend instead of the heiress to a name, fortune and legacy bigger than both her and Severus ( and with the worries to match ). There was no mockery in her tone, still, much like there had never been any throughout the years they’d both been at Hogwarts at the same time. The blonde knew her friend and, after years of teaching him about the ways of society, she still wouldn’t call him a people’s person ( but he was good at his job, and dedicated to it, which was perhaps more important. Besides, what did Narcissa know about having a job ? ). « I’m going to have to see one of these pamphlets. » It was said as a joke, but the sentence brought the blonde back to reality. In the current times, a refresher could certainly never hurt. 

         « Take your time. » Blue eyes went from Severus’ face to the takeout box with a resolved sigh. She would not have expected anything else from one Severus Snape, but this did not mean she could not deplore her friend’s seeming lack of interest in his own nutrition. « You’re worrying me. Surely your flat cannot be that awful, » came her response at the lack of storage space in his apartment. This was however central London. The chances of Severus’ place being overpriced and awful were higher than the blonde, in all the shortsightedness of her youth and upbringing, would ever admit ( and what was worse in a place than its lack of storage ? Her parents’ house had plenty and Narcissa still found it came up short ). 

         Still, the blonde resolutely paid for her drink and stood up without so much as a last sip, gathering her cloak and sliding it back on her slender shoulders as if to signify that neither she nor Severus were getting out of this. Besides, she still genuinely wanted to talk. No matter how much or little Severus knew about what went on at the ball, he at least should be able to confirm some of her suspicions ( though whether this would alleviate her worries or not remained to be seen ). 

[ofblackdaffodil]

tednotteddy‌:

The enchanted backpack Ted wore had made all the difference in the day’s Hogsmeade trip - being that he was able to keep both hands free while keeping an eye on his daughter and making sure the rest of the items on their list were purchased. He had given his daughter the freedom of toddling ahead of him (with his maintaining a distance of being able to grab her the moment something seemed off) and it had gone well so far, with Nymphadora turning back to make sure he was still right behind her every couple of steps.

The child had grown more confident though and taken off running, leaving Ted needing to pick up his pace (not that it was all that hard to keep up with her since the cobblestone path did little in supporting her balance). He froze when she bumped into someone, the apology ready to fly from his lips until he discovered who she had run into. Ted’s face paled when he approached, already bordering on getting defensive by the time he scooped his daughter up.

“My apologies,” Ted exhaled and took a step backward, hugging Nymphadora to his chest for a few seconds before he shifted her onto his right side, looking her over a moment then cautiously eyeing Narcissa. There was a slight hint of relief that appeared when he double-checked Nymphadora hadn’t injured herself or done anything to leave dirt on Narcissa’s outfit. He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his daughter’s pink strands of hair. “Can you say sorry to the woman, Dora?” He asked in a whisper, the nickname coming out a little louder than the rest of the question. His teeth dug into his lower lip when the toddler gave a soft, “Saw-wee,” in reply. Ted should have left it at that but there was something in the way Narcissa had been looking at his daughter that had him willing to risk a conversation with her. “I can assure you she wouldn’t have gotten very far if you hadn’t blocked her path,” He shrugged. “Merlin knows your sister wouldn’t trust me with taking her out on my own if I was that careless.”

          The woman. That’s who she was — A mere stranger crossed on the street, nameless face lost in the masses, without any impact whatsoever on the life of the little girl in her father’s arms. This should not hurt as much as it did. In fact, Narcissa thought, the very fact that it did hurt, that her mouth was filled with regrets and what ifs ( never would be and never could be ) was a disturbing sign  of treason. If her family knew her thoughts, surely they would be quick to cast her aside ( surely she would cast her own self aside ). Still. There were impossible tasks the blonde did her best to fulfill every passing days, and pretending to not care about her older sister was one of them. Perhaps this was why she still held so much anger and bitterness towards Andromeda —Because considering her as good as dead was not as easy as everyone in her family made it out to be, especially not when she had the proof of how much life and happiness Andy had gotten right in front of her. 

         The smile that graced her lips was not friendly, rather careful and calculated ( the kind of smile that might worry anyone without a clear conscience ), but it was directed exclusively at Ted, blue eyes filled with a distaste she knew was only partly warranted ( she was right in hating his status and origins, but Andromeda had opened the door she had walked out from all by herself. It was not his fault that Narcissa was now forever short of a sister ). When her eyes trailed back to the little girl with pink hair, however, they grew softer — A personal flaw, the incapacity of being mean to young children and toddlers ( so pure and not yet jaded. It took a special kind of cruelty for anyone to want to tarnish that, and Narcissa was not that monstrous. Besides, this could have been or would have been or might have been her niece ). Lips quirked up further, smile growing wider. « Why, thank you for your apology. » Tone was perhaps lighter than might have been expected, though the blonde did not do the annoying mistake of using a baby voice. Nymphadora could understand her, she would treat her as such. « There was no harm done, though, I promise. » 

         And maybe it was her natural fondness for kids, and maybe it was her mixed feelings about Nymphadora and Andromeda and everything, but it seemed her demeanour had been taken as an encouragement by the muggle born that his presence was welcomed. « I’m sure. » The curt reply fell past her lips, perhaps illustrating how unsure Narcissa actually was of Ted’s paternal instincts. « You seem mistaken, though. Andromeda is not my sister anymore. »

[ofblackdaffodil]

strange-lestrange·:

“This is the first and last time I do this,sister,” she told Narcissa, staring at the stuffed unicorn and not bothering to answer her question. Bellatrix never wanted to be a mother but here she was, with a little girl in a craddle who looked so much like her when she was born, or that’s what her mother said when she came to see Polaris for the first time, brining her gifts. “One is enough.” She had no idea how mama was able to have three girls, each baby taking some of her strenght.

“Bellatrix stared at her sister and sighed. “He came to see her, you know? Rodolphus came, took a look at her and left.” She rolled her eyes and moved on the bed to get comfortable. “I already gave him his her, I did my duty and he discards Polaris just because she was born without a cock!” She threw away the glass of water that was on her night table. Thank Merlin Polaris didn’t woke up thanks to her mother’s rage. “Father never did that with us. Perhaps he did but he made peace with it because mother never gave him a boy.”

          Lips curled in an amused smile. Far from the blonde the idea to mock her sister, especially after she had given birth so recently and the topic was no doubt still a sore spot — But, she thought, how typical and utterly Bellatrix this reaction, tis ‘never again’ was. She did not address it, however — Both because she trusted her sister meant every word she had said and because despite that, the blonde could not help but wonder if Rodolphus might insist on another child ( a boy, this time ). Instead of a direct reply, Narcissa tentatively extended her arms towards her niece. « May I ? I want to know the newest family member, » and this gave reason to her smile, more than any other explanation might have. Explanations, the blonde found, sometimes did more harm than good. 

         Face tried not to flinch at the glass of water being that easily thrown away ( discarded ) and her arms extended further, with more urgency. Bellatrix might have had every right to be upset at her husband’s behaviour, but Narcissa would not stand the idea that Polaris might have to suffer through this, even as a bystander, especially at such a young age ( too young to understand anything at all, yet already internalizing her mother’s actions ). Flinch turned into a sad, sour expression at her sister’s situation, however. For all she might worry about her niece, the blonde also worried about her sister. « Father had three daughters. He was clearly eager for a male heir, too, but he treated us well. » Her voice is gentle, a reminder that Rodolphus’ expectations are well within both his rights and the norm for pureblood men. « Rodolphus might need time, but I am sure he will come around. Polaris is his blood, and yours. No one could ever discard her. »

[ofblackdaffodil]

REGULUS •

        there was no doubt that soon they will all know what had exactly caused the illness in the guests, but until then wasn’t it easier to just pretend that they had taken it too far? regulus didn’t understand why they had decided to do something so unpredictable, something so difficult to control, he worked better when it came to precision, being able to control every action for a desired outcome. this had been sloppy, purebloods had gotten hurt, and wasn’t that what they were trying to protect? it had been risky, bold. and once they figured out it had been poison the secrecy and anonymity that had protected them would be fragile, one wrong move and they would be exposed. regulus had a feeling that some members cared little about it, being exposed, people finally knowing who was behind those horrific crimes, but not regulus, not when the people he loved could be in danger because of him. he could do little but nod at narcissa words, he was going to have to talk sooner or later, or she would know something was wrong. would it be so bad if he just told her about it? he shook his head at the thought. this path he had to walk alone. regulus walked across the room and plopped down next to narcissa, it felt so comforting, like the many times as a child he had lied down with his head on her lap while she read him a story. regulus finally looked at her, he had tried to stay focus on the ground, or the wall, of the table, but he finally looked up. he was tired of lying, of hiding things, he was so tired of everything. ❝andy…❞ regulus said glancing towards the door, the last thing he needed was his mother hearing what he was about to tell narcissa, ❝she got ill❞

          Regulus looked so small, so young, alone against a room that felt emptier ( lonelier ) than Narcissa remembered. It had felt empty after Sirius was gone, too, and impossibly lonely on the days where her family visited Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion without Andromeda at her side — But today ? No one was missing·from today, yet it felt as if someone was. If she were to ask him directly about his troubles ( about his gaze, fixating on everything that wasn’t her as if inanimate objects could provide any sort of comfort; or the imperceptible gestures of his head, which made her wonder if these were meant for her at all ), would he want to explain ? Would he even be able to ? Or would she add his name to the long list of people of people who had to lie to her ( Bellatrix, the constant and annoying headliner ) ? Before she could ask, her sister’s name escaped his lips — And Narcissa was left speechless.·« ...ill ? » She repeated, voice incredibly small as her face betrayed a worry she had lost or given up all rights to when Andromeda had left. Blue eyes went from his face to the door, wary and heartbroken. And then, Narcissa did something she perhaps should not have ( something people who trust their families most certainly should not do ). Slim fingers grabbed a hold of her wand as she silently pointed at the door and cast a Muffliato Charm before turning back to her cousin. She should probably tell him to leave her sister alone, for his own sake, and perhaps the blonde was a terrible person for pressing the matter — But to think Andy could have die·was arguably a worst fate than knowing she was alive and well but dead to the whole family.·« How ill ? Did — Did healers get to her ? Was she able to breathe ? I — » A pause, and a pang of guilt. « You shouldn’t have had to see that, any·of that.·»·· ·

[ofblackdaffodil]

When: An afternoon in late July 1978  Where: Rosewood Café ( London )

          The table the blonde was sat at for coffee had quickly been covered with colours and fabrics samples — Some, plain and stark against the white marble tables of the fancy ( elitist ) café on Charing Cross Road ( just a stone’s throw away from Diagon Alley, but quieter than the buzzing and common main wizarding street and Narcissa’s favourite refuge close to the Ministry ). . Other samples seemed embroidered or painted with intricate designs and even more intricate moving patterns. If the light of the café caught them just right, the movement of the curves on some of the fabrics glistened like liquid gold. 

         The blonde should have left her redecorating adventures for when she had appareled back home, but she had a loft in Paris to completely remodel and a fundraiser she was in the process of helping plan and between all of this, her lunch with the junior undersecretary for the Minister and her appointment with the designer who had provided her with the options displayed in front of her two weeks ago, Narcissa had not had the time to even think about appareling back to the family’s estate and away from the pull and tug of the city. ( London was convenient enough, but it was not Paris, and certainly also lacked the charm of the English countryside or seaside during the summer months. She failed to see how her Aunt and Uncle would have willingly chosen to be cooped up in an attached house in Islington ). For the next hour and a half, this table was therefore as good as her office. 

         Hand reached out for her cup of tea as her eyes finally gazed away from the sample and onto the now surprisingly packed café, to finally stop on the person in front of her. « I’m afraid this table is taken. » The two free chairs around the round table weren’t, but this seemed a mere detail compared to the samples taking over the surface of the table. « Unless, of course, you were asking something else. »

[ofblackdaffodil]

          The sound of someone apparating in the manner never got any more reassuring for the blonde, no matter how much she reminded herself that he was gone and the war was over ( over for who ? Not for her, not when she still had to fight for her family’s freedom ). Hands pulled her son ( babbling, refusing to listen to the storybook she had picked out for him ) tighter towards her, a far too common gesture. The fact the presence was Rodolphus, someone she knew well, did not make her loosen her grip on Draco. 

         « Just a minute, then, » she conceded, more because she felt she owed this to her brother-in-law than anything else. « You shouldn’t be here. » Lucius and Rodolphus were friends, it was true, and him and Narcissa were family by marriage, but despite the great respect the blonde might have had for him, she also knew the presence of a criminal awaiting for an Azkaban sentence in her own home would only lessen Lucius’ chances at walking out of all of this freely, if people knew. And Lucius not getting out of it all unscathed and free was not an option Narcissa was willing to accept ( not with a one year old and a family that did not have the chance to grow, not when she needed Lucius here so much ). 

         She had known when Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan had first got taken in that she would not be able to save all of them ( not unless they saved themselves, no matter how much she wanted to ). She would save Lucius ( lie for Lucius ). This required ensuring her words had credibility, that she was not seen associating with the wrong people. As much as she was at peace with this choice, it did not make it any easier to talk to Rodolphus knowing she did not try to spare either him or her sister their current fate. « I’m surprised they are allowing you to apparate, given the circumstances. » Her tone was as conversational as possible, as if this might present the conversation from going into directions the blonde feared it would. A pause, a moment of hesitation. « Is there a reason for your visit ? I don’t suppose you might have decided on a defense to appeal your sentence ? »

fall farewells | au

November 1981

Rodolphus knew what the trial would bring. It was only the Lestrange familial wealth that had him free of the holding cells at the Ministry. But all the gold in his vault was not going to be able to keep him free for too much longer. He was going to Azkaban.

Bellatrix believed The Dark Lord would return, but he was less optimistic. They’d thrown in their lot with the losing side… and defeated in this war, all was lost. Rodolphus did not regret it. He believed in the duty and responsibility of the pureblood families to wizarding society. He believed in all they had fought for. The likes of the Lestranges, Malfoys, and Blacks–they were to be paragons in defense of tradition.

The world was changing for the worse, but he wouldn’t be around to see it. Before he was shipped off to a cell, though, he had this opportunity to say goodbye. The wizard arrived with that distinct pop of apparition. Stepping forward, Rodolphus drug long fingers through his dark hair. “Let’s have a minute, love.” His greeting carried a deeply masculine gruff edge. Rodolphus wasn’t the kindest of men, even–or perhaps especially–with his lovers. Not that he ever expected to be in any sort of relationship with the person before him.

[ofblackdaffodil]

ALICE • 

Narcissa Malfoy was an unlikely ally during the war. Some of the information she had provided saved many people she cared about. Her help during the war was not public knowledge, far from it. There were even some in the Order that didn’t know she had been their source. As valuable as the information was, Alice was not going to put her at risk. Even now. “There’s so such thing as an intrusion between friends.” She waved her wand, the books sorting themselves as she walked back to the front. “I’m doing alright. Neville keeps doing accidental magic at school. Thank Merlin his teachers are used to it. Though it makes me nervous. If he’s doing this now, what is he going to do with a wand? And Augusta is on a unicorn kick. I swear even the girliest of girls doesn’t love them this much.” She flicked her wand and two of the crates turned into plush chairs for the two of them. “Please, sit. How are you? How’s Draco doing?”

          Bright smile responded to Alice’s comment on friendship as she moved further into the shop. It was strange to think this is what they were — Friends. Stranger, even, that they had become such under tragic circumstances. War made for strange, desperate alliances, but the blonde appreciated the ones that had been maintained after all was said and done ( trusting, trustworthy, less desperate ). « I’ll take this as permission to invite myself over for tea. I’ll bring Draco along. » She had sat in one of the plush chairs, face amused at the tales of the brunette’s children, trying to not let it show how hard she felt this must all be for Alice. Frank should have been there. « If he is that good already, Neville will make a fine wizard. » Not that there was any doubt that he would be. « We’ve both been well. Though I think as he grows older, Draco is getting increasingly more frustrated by my reluctance at letting him try flying on a broom. He had a lot of phases as a young child, too, so I promise the unicorn kick will die down eventually. At least a little. » 

[ofblackdaffodil]

TED • 

Truthfully, Narcissa was the last person Ted would have expected at his doorstep. While they didn’t get along all that well there was no mistaking his belief that family counted more than anything so having his wife’s sister at the door had him more concerned than anything else. It left him worrying a little since it must have been something drastic that brought her there. While the news of her divorce had been published all over, Ted hadn’t done anything to read into it. It was something he deemed a private affair.

He cocked his head to the side and tried not to make a face at Narcissa’s words, simply looking concerned once he decided on how he was going to react. “That seems a little excessive,” He stated then stepped aside to let her enter the house if she wanted. “Probably another half hour from now. She’s out shopping with Dora. Can I interest you in a cup of tea until then?”

          The concern on Ted’s face had not gone unnoticed. It felt strange and unacceptable to think someone like him would allow himself such emotions towards her when she would not extend the same courtesy towards him. ( This was not entirely true. Narcissa might have felt concern, but she could not see herself ever expressing it. ) She was slightly taken aback, but spared a glance at the inside of the house, behind Ted, when he extended the offer of letting her in for tea. 

         Two forces were at play, here, each tugging more fiercely on her heartstrings than the other. On the one hand, refusing to associate with the likes of Ted Tonks was all she had ever known ( an ideology she still believed in ). On the other, she had gone through a divorce in parts because she could not handle the implications of this ideology ( what it meant about its followers, how unsafe and in danger and scared for her own son she had felt ). She nodded. « Tea would be appreciated, if you are sure it is not causing you too much trouble. » A brief pause, before she finally considered explaining herself. « You would not call this excessive if you knew the specifics of my situation. Besides, France is hardly the other side of the world. »

[ofblackdaffodil]

          Her jaw clenched at Arabella’s words — Though it was not out of anger or annoyance but out of fear. The brunette had been placed under her care, her roof, her watch, and yet the mark on her forearm was a testament of how immensely Narcissa had failed her, too. The fact she was left in the dark about Draco’s mission had been a small mercy ( a confirmation that the Dark Lord did not hold the sins of the Malfoys over the girl’s head, at least ) that she would not have expected Arabella to understand. But how could she explain that yes, Arabella was far too young to be pushed in all of this ( and Draco was, too ) without risking sounding treacherous. Her lips thinned in resignation, but the eyes that met Arabella’s had the same protective and understanding glance she had for her son. « The answer is in your own words, Arabella. » Draco was being forced. This, the teenager had gotten right. « I wouldn’t expect you to understand why we’re leaving you in the dark — or to like it — but perhaps you could consider that this is something Draco himself should choose to talk about, in his own time. » She’s gotten closer then, hand softly going to tuck a strand of Arabella’s hair back in place ( a gesture she had done many times before. Arabella might have been Emma’s daughter by blood, but she had also been Narcissa’s in any way she felt mattered ). « You’re both so young, » too young, « give yourself the time to enjoy that. You’ll be old enough before you know it. » Unfortunately, and in a way the blonde would not be able to stop. 

September. 1997.

@ofblackdaffodil​

“Why wont you tell me what’s going on?”  Her jaw was set so tightly it almost hurt. Her eyes were locked in challenge on the woman who had basically raised her. The only mother she truly knew, since hers had so long been locked away. “Draco is being forced into something, and not a soul wants to let me in on the secret. He’s my brother for Merlin sake, the least I can do is help him.” She knew better. He wasn’t really her brother, but most of the time, it certainly felt t hat way. “I bear his mark too, don’t I?”  The tattoo on her wrist burned when she spoke of it. “At the verey least, allow someone to repect me enough to fill me in. Either I am old enough to bear this  mark, or too young to fight, but I can not be both. And if Draco has been chosen as old enough, than so am I.” She turned her eyes on Lucius, then back to Narcissa, and they were stone cold. Incredibly reminiscent of her Mother’s. “Or is this and incredibly sexist issue based entirely on narcissism and the fragility of the male ego?”

[ofblackdaffodil]

When: 29th of March 1983 With: @strange-lestrange​

          « How is my favorite niece ? » She had brought gifts, of course. A stuffed unicorn for Polaris, and that specific ginger and lemon tea which had helped her so much after giving birth to Draco for Bellatrix. Still, the words felt awfully off in her mouth ( wrong, scandalous ). How could she be allowed to have a favourite niece, discarding Nymphadora so easily ? Her relation with Andromeda might feel non-existent, but the blonde could not forget the little girl. 

         Pushing her thoughts aside, her smile never faltering, she allowed herself to walk further into her sister’s bedroom. « And how are you ? How have you been ? » This seemed almost like the most important question, all things considered. She had never expected her older sister to become a mother, yet here Bella was. The sight felt almost otherworldly, as if she had been transported in an alternate reality, but these were the types of comments the blonde would not allow herself. Bellatrix had done her duty, and now there was another little human ( another little light ) involved. This was more precious than anything. 

[ofblackdaffodil]

          Eyes narrowed at the sight of the brunette. From where she was standing, Narcissa could hardly recognize Emma. Prison had changed her, made her more like Bellatrix. The blonde supposed she should have felt some sort of guilt, for having stayed behind unscathed while so many of her friends had ended up behind bars ( and while she had showed no particular sign of trying to help them, wrapped up as she was in ensuring her family, husband and son, would be safe ). What she felt, however, was a very specific brand of unease. This was not the person she went to Hogwarts with. « I’m afraid your eyes are betraying you, Azkaban did you no good in that respect. This isn’t greying hair, but platinum blonde. » She would add that Emma had aged, too, but this went without saying ( an unspoken fact the blonde left hanging in the air as neither of them probably needed another reminder of where Emma was coming from ). « Come on in, » she invited, motioning for the elf who had let the brunette in to go and prepare tea. « I am sure you’ll understand me asking you what was my most annoying sleeping habit was while we shared a dorm room, as a simple proof you are who you appear to be. » She doubted this was not Emma, but one could never be too careful.

1996. February.

@ofblackdaffodil.

The air was cold as Emma flounced her way up the path to Malfoy Manor. It was effortless and careless, and maybe after all these years it would be unwelcome. Though, this was not something she even really considered. “Oh Cissy!!” She called out in a singsong voice, lound enough to be heard as she danced her way up the grounds. “Come out and play with me, love, I’ve been terribly bored.” The elf let her in, and it was mere seconds before she found herself face to face with familiar eyes and bright blonde hair. “You’ve aged.” She pointed out. “Your hair is greying. I can see it. right there, at the top you see.” She had a sparkle of mischief in her eyes as she spoke. Taunting Narcissa was one of her very favorite past times. “Are you going to offer me some tea or have I escaped prison to suffer death at the hand of dry mouth?”

[ofblackdaffodil]

When: 14th of December 1982 With: @xregulus​

          Narcissa was not scared exactly. She trusted Regulus enough to leave him alone with her two-and-a-half years old son ( the half was incredibly important ) while she was out doing the part of Christmas shopping which would have bored the young boy ( that is to say the shopping part ) for the afternoon. However, leaving her son with anyone was still an incredibly hard feat ( a touchy subject ) for the blonde. She knew this was healthy for them both, and Draco loved Uncle Regulus — but the farther away she was, the less she could protect him. She still struggled with that ( admitting they were at peace ). So, when she spotted her cousin seemingly well, the witch let out a breath she had not known she had been holding, discarding her bags so a house elf would take care of them. 

         « How is he ? » This perhaps shouldn’t have been her first question. Perhaps, arguably, should she have asked how Regulus was, first. But while her own worries had been mellowed, they had still not gone away ( not yet, not until she had Draco back in her arms and a detailed account of what he had done ). « I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble. He is obsessed with his toy dragon, so this must have been a good activity ? » There were a few seconds in which the blonde finally realized she was making this all about her son ( again ). So instead, she walked further in and sat down. This was fine. Everything was fine. « How are you ? »

[ofblackdaffodil]

She was a very Lonely Person, but not many people really knew that.

C.B - I’ll write a book one day (via sinful-cravings)