Fic: Fall of a Swan (Harry Potter, part 1/2)
Title: Fall of a Swan
Author: flowsoffire
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/characters: Lucius/Narcissa, Bellatrix, Druella
Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama
Rating: M
Word count: c. 10000 total
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: In the cruel world of the Death Eaters, Narcissa Black begins a quest for perfection and success. But can control lead her to the top, or will the darkness within devour her-will she fall all the harder for all she has risen? Between holding tight and letting go, she falls off balance, and loses touch more and more. AU, Death Eater!Narcissa, rewrite of the movie Black Swan.
Author's note: *deep breath* All right. This piece was originally meant for PieceOfGum’s Halloween challenge on fanfiction.net, which consisted in writing a piece that was inspired by a famous horror movie, book, or tale. As you can see, this is quite the late entry, but I got there in the end. (Almost died in the process too…)
I chose to work on the thriller movie Black Swan. This is an AU piece in which Narcissa Black, due to both her family’s impoverishment after her father’s death and her sister Andromeda’s estrangement having thrown shame upon the family, has no choice but to join the rising organization of the Death Eaters, so as to bring some honour back to her family and regain some much-damaged prospects for her future. Narcissa’s character mirrors the movie’s main character Nina, the broken Swan Queen, in her quest for success and perfection in a cruel world. (I always did love duelling vs. dancing parallels.) Lucius stands for her demanding, seductive and charismatic director Thomas, while Bellatrix’s character is a mix of the two rival figures, embodying sensuality, the accomplished dancers with the ability to let go, which Nina so lacks-Lily and Beth. (Except that I took out the whole Nina/Lily subplot. Incest, no thank you.) You can also see the figure of the mother. Some lines come directly from the movie-Druella calling Narcissa "Sweet girl", "Attack it", the evil force taking control of Narcissa and her embracing it, the (minor) self-harming theme. The fic itself also follows the movie quite precisely, with many key scenes such as the training, the lipstick scene, the social celebration, then the party… Obviously, I don’t own Black Swan, like I don’t own HP. Just playing with it.
The end is purposefully vague-open to interpretation. I tried my best to go with the movie’s surreal feel, full of hallucinations. Feel free to discuss what you think has happened in a review!
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She stood with her back straight, her head held high, her face impassive. She had not received a mask yet, and eyes traced her features, curious, sceptical or leering. She ignored them all, keeping her gaze trained forward, on the one man who stood out in front of her. If he might be called a man at all, with his waxy features and bloodshot eyes, staring fixedly at her until she felt coldness flood her chest. Despite it all, she remained in control, her lovely face betraying nothing.
"Narcissa Black," he said softly. "Kneel."
She obeyed in one smooth movement, and extended her slim arm, which the Dark Lord gripped and coolly examined. They both looked down at her fair, unmarred skin, before the tip of a wand was pressed to it, and her eyes drifted shut. She squared her jaw and breathed deeply. The pain came as expected, yet she could not hold back a cry at the sheer blazing intensity of it; she pictured the cruel smile on his thin-lipped mouth-unless he deemed it beneath him to manifest his glee in such a way. Her limb burned and burned, until her head was spinning and she thought she might black out. But eventually, his wand parted from her flesh. He examined his handiwork, and she slowly opened her eyes to look as well. The Mark stood out, striking, against her milky skin.
"Rise," he commanded sharply, stepping away. "Mr. Malfoy, step forward."
Narcissa dragged herself to her feet as swiftly and gracefully as she could despite her wobbling legs, unwilling to betray the difficulty of performing that simple movement. She looked up at the man who was now facing her. Smooth face, flawless appearance and haughty bearing, he towered over her and considered her calmly, openly appraising her.
"What do you think?" the Dark Lord asked, and Lucius Malfoy replied:
"She seems to have potential, my Lord. Skill and steadiness, with some definite self-control."
"You will mentor her, Lucius," their master softly stated, and Narcissa felt a chill run down her spine. How coolly they discussed her fate.
"Indeed I will, my Lord, if you so wish," Lucius Malfoy responded in a murmur.
His grey eyes seized Narcissa again, staring into her very soul, it seemed. She shivered. The deed was done, and she would now need to prove herself worthy.
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"How did it all go?" Druella Black demanded, her eyes following her youngest daughter as she poured herself a cup of tea.
"Very well, Mother," Cissy stated.
She was in a hurry, and quickly arranged her cloak, checked that her wand was neatly tucked in her sleeve, breathed deeply in an attempt to slow down her frantic heartbeat. However, she still whirled around, a bit too fast, to give her mother a smile.
"I received the Mark," she said, keeping her voice steady. "And Lucius Malfoy will be mentoring me. He promised he would turn me into one of the best."
"How lovely!" Druella exclaimed, although her daughter was not quite sure the word was fitting to their current discussion. "Well, do be careful, Narcissa. Lucius Malfoy's power is only equalled by his ruthlessness, or so they say. He will be quite demanding with you… Making you his pet project, if you will."
"I do not mind." Cissy looked away again, and heard her mother sigh.
"In other circumstances, he might have wooed you, you know," she spoke in a faraway tone. "But in our current situation-after the… recent events, and with the state of the family’s fortune after your father’s death… Well. This is truly your best option, my dear. Your place in the ranks will give you the influence and purpose you would otherwise lack, so that your prospects may become so much more than what they are today."
"Indeed, Mother."
She could hear the faint smile in Druella's voice by then. "I am so proud of you, my sweet girl. You are dignified and flawless, and yet still willing to fight for your future-to cleanse our name of its former disgrace."
To repair the damage Andromeda left behind, Cissy thought. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and composed her features as she turned around. "Thank you so much. Thank you for always being there for me."
"You have no need to thank me," Druella said softly, and embraced her daughter. "I wish I could do what you can, you and your sister, to make the name of Black respected again. Go now, sweet girl."
Narcissa walked away, leaving her mother staring after her, sitting alone at the breakfast table. The young witch hurried across the hall and out of the old, dark manor, rushing for the place where she might Apparate away. She did not spare a second glance to the once-grand family estate, squaring her jaw and turning sharply, vanishing into thin air.
She reappeared near the current headquarters, and strode straight into the training area, ignoring the stares that followed her. There stood Lucius Malfoy, waiting for her, but her sister Bellatrix was the first to step forward. She dashed up to Narcissa, black curls streaming behind her, and squeezed her arms as she looked her up and down.
"Welcome to the ranks, sister." Her dark eyes were glittering with promises-and laced with shadows.
"Thank you," Narcissa murmured.
"You are going to be amazing," her sibling stated with iron conviction.
Then she turned, glares and defiance replacing pride and beams swiftly. "Why should I not be the one to mentor her?" she demanded aggressively.
"Because the Dark Lord so decided," Lucius replied smoothly. "And now, if you would kindly depart. I have business with my new apprentice."
Bellatrix fiercely glared at him, and he held her gaze without a flinch. When she whirled away, huffing disdainfully, Narcissa noticed her cheeks were flushed scarlet with frustration. She placed a quick kiss on her brow.
"Make me proud, sister," she called over her shoulder as she strode from the room.
Cissy had a small smile. She became impassive again when she turned towards Lucius, who was looking her over calmly.
"Hello, Narcissa," he said evenly. "Well, let us see what you are good for."
In a flash, he had his wand out and pointed at her. Caught off guard, she fumbled for her own, but rapidly found herself in control again, her stance perfect and a curse at the tip of her tongue.
"At three," he warned her. "One. Two. Three."
Lethal light flashed across the room. Narcissa deflected the curse he had thrown at her, sent another his way; he sidestepped and nearly got her at the legs. He reacted fast, with a controlled wildness that made his every move deadly, precise and yet very hard to predict. She was quickly overwhelmed, though she battled on fiercely, knowing she couldn't just give up. Eventually, her wand flew out of her hand, and a clever hex from him had her knocked to the ground, panting in shock.
"Not bad," he stated coldly. "But there is room for improvement… Much improvement. Up, and again."
Scrambling to her feet at once, Narcissa met his gaze. He had a small smile with a cruel edge to it. She smirked back, determined to learn.
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"No, you don't have it. Your moves quicker, wider, less restrained! You are fighting like an Order member!"
Narcissa danced out of the way of a flash of violet light, sent two hexes back and nearly went flying under his counter-curse.
"Retreat! What was that-two curses in a row and still keeping your guard up, that would be too difficult for you, perhaps? You toss your fire, and up goes the shield! You only require more smoothness. Your duelling strategy is too choreographed, your patterns predictable-get wicked! Get wild! Stop holding back, just let your instincts take over! Let the darkness at the core of you lead your way."
He kept barraging her with curses while he shouted his instructions, and Narcissa struggled to remain steady and not fall under his fierce attack. Her face was tense, her whole body taut, letting go seemed impossible… They fought surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, leering at her with obvious contempt. They all knew who she was, and probably thought that she only stood there, amongst them, Marked and Lucius Malfoy's personal apprentice, because of her sister's influence. They would all gladly have taken her down to get her place-and they could too. She wasn't safe-couldn't trust-couldn't relax. The only one in the room with no wish to get rid of her was Bellatrix, and there was fury, disappointment in her sibling's gaze…
"Stop!" Lucius called, raising his wand. She froze, panting.
"We'll try something else," he said authoritatively. "You are obviously having trouble breaking out of your pattern, and even more doing so without making yourself vulnerable. For now, I want you to forget about your guard. I will not attack. You are going to attack me. Give it your all. Throw yourself into those curses, knock me over like a storm. I want to see you savage. Feel the evil force pulling you, the dark impulse. Set it loose. Let it flow."
Narcissa swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "Go ahead," he ordered her.
She raised her wand, tried to take mere seconds to think before she sent the first curse. He deflected it easily, and she twisted and spun, struggling to take him off guard.
"Still not it," he called. "Your curses are shallow, barely brushing the surface-darkness is deep and looming. The control is still there! Your duelling is all bound up and hindered by control. Where is the danger, Narcissa? Attack me! Attack it!"
His words were hitting her harder than her curses him. Narcissa kept sending hex after hex, breathless, her heart hammering with fear and pressure. She could only see his face now, demanding and magnificent, the glint of his cold eyes. He raised his wand as if to strike back; mid-spin, she misstepped, and the next flash of light hit the wall, far above his head. She nearly fell over.
"That's enough," he snapped. "Everybody, out."
She could hear mocking whispers, even jeers as the crowd slowly made for the door. Cringing inside, she stepped forward as well, but Lucius gripped her around the wrist just as she was passing him.
"No, no, no. You are staying," he murmured.
They waited until they were fully alone; he was staring at her, but she couldn't bring herself to face him. He reached out, seizing her chin in a firm grasp, his eye meeting hers.
"Narcissa Black. So far, you have been the most useless student I have ever had," he stated coolly.
A slight shudder ran through her. She hoped he had not felt it. "I can do better," she argued in a faint voice, cheeks burning. "I know it. I have skill… technique. You know that, too."
"Yes, I most certainly do. And believe you me, I care nothing about your technique," he responded. "It is flawless and it is not enough. You are not feeling it. The darkness. You keep yourself sheltered like a coward."
"How should I learn to find it?"
His lips tightened. "Let go," he said. "Allow instinct to take over. Bloodlust. Survival. You won't be able to control it, and all the better. You will refine it later. You want a real fight? Throw yourself in it. Strip it down, make it visceral. Live every second of it, with the utmost intensity."
She nodded, her heart on her lips. His mouth curled as he surveyed her expression. "And now, out of my sight," he told her simply.
Narcissa rushed from the room, light-headed. She ran straight into somebody, felt curls whipping her face-Bellatrix. Her sister faced her, jaw tense, eyes gleaming, positively livid.
"What was that?" she asked roughly. "Do you want to mess up and lose everything when you've barely just gotten started?"
Narcissa felt like a little girl. It was hard to hold herself together, to keep up the proud façade. Inside, she could feel herself crumbling. "I've done my best," she defended herself feebly. "It was my first time… in a proper duel… with a Death Eater."
"And good job it happened to be your mentor too, or it might as well have been your last," Bellatrix hissed.
Cissy stared downwards, shaking. "I'll do better," she uttered in a low voice. "He…" She swallowed. "…explained. I can fix my mistakes, Bella, I'm sure I can."
Her sister's lip curled. "I hope so," she said distastefully. "Because this is not only about pride, or even the family, Narcissa. Success and survival are tightly bound within the ranks."
"I understand." She really did. She could sense the danger lurking, even now. It made her jolt and look over her shoulder.
Bellatrix laughed cruelly. "Not getting paranoid, are we? Well, at least you are aware of the issue. You need to work harder."
"I will," Narcissa vowed.
Her sister had a curt nod, and walked away.
As soon as she was alone, Narcissa leaned into the nearest wall, breathing deeply. But she could not afford to linger there, or to show weakness, and so she moved forward again, desperately wishing she could Disapparate from there already. In the corridors, she walked by fellow Death Eaters, some wearing their masks-they were not few. It chilled her, as though monsters were hiding underneath. She had her own mask, though, now-she ought not to be so childish. It only was engraved metal, charmed to be light and impossible to tear off by force…
"…poor wee baby," she heard as she passed an alcove.
"Real little girl, ready to faint. Malfoy could have tossed her around like a doll."
"Well, maybe he's planning to. Maybe that's why he hasn't really hurt her-yet. 'Cause she let him have his wicked way." Crude laughter rung into her ears and seeped into her bones. She had frozen in place, unable to control herself. She had heard the voices before, could recognize them-the Carrows.
Humiliation was filling her, overwhelming her, along with a more dangerous kind of dread. The sharks were tasting blood.
Cissy bolted away and eventually reached the exit, took a great gulp of the outside air. She spun immediately, not thinking to wait, and nearly arrived Splinched in front of the family manor. She rushed up the drive, the porch, through the foyer towards the stairs, her head pounding.
"Narcissa, dearest."
She screwed her eyes shut. She could not face anybody now, but still she slowly turned around, forcing a smile. "Hello, Mother."
"How did the lesson go, my dear? Are you in a hurry?"
"Rather tired, if I'm being honest." Her voice was too fast and brittle. She struggled to make it more even. "Yes, it went all right. We practised duelling for a while."
"Ah. You have always been quite good at that, correct?"
She'd thought she had. "Well, it is taken to a whole new level now, Mother. But I am learning."
"Oh."
"I am. I will be perfect." Her voice shattered on the word, and she was choking back tears.
"Oh dear," her mother said.
"It's quite all right, Mother," she managed. "A bit of pressure, that's all."
"My sweet girl." And then: "I will ask the house-elf to fetch you some tea."
"No need. I will be practising…"
"Something to eat, too. I doubt you had lunch at the headquarters, and it is already late…"
"Mother, really. Thank you. I'll be just fine."
"Well then." Druella slightly moved to her, rested an arm on her shoulders, drew her into a brief, stiff embrace. "Go, sweet girl. Make us proud."
She nodded, heart heavy and throat tight.
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Narcissa hovered on the doorstep, looking across the bright, empty room.
It was stupid of her to come there. She had spent so long, recently, down in the basement in the wide practise room-spinning and aiming and lashing out, going on and on until she stumbled and was bitten back by her own fire. Bellatrix had been there before her, had left books with margins dark with scribbled notes, some practical, some random, some downright rude. If she had left hints somewhere that might help Narcissa along the way, it would be in that room of strain and suffering. But it was something else she was currently looking for, something more volatile. Just a hint of her sister's strength, to feel more like Bellatrix-lethal, and unbreakable.
Narcissa stepped into her sister's old bedroom. The bed was neatly done, but some of her things were still scattered on the dressing table, from her last stay-the night of Narcissa's marking. No elf had dared to touch them, all dreading the wrath of Miss Bella. Cissy glided across the floor and looked down at her sister's possessions.
Slowly, she picked up a tube of lipstick. It was bloody red, such a striking colour. Although they would have complimented her fair hair and complexion, Cissy always kept well away from these, deeming them too rich and flamboyant, preferring subtler shades. It was stupid to waste time on such a thing; it was her sister's spirit she was after, not her feminity. Still Narcissa opened her mouth and slowly coated her lower lip with the smooth substance. She spread it carefully, and when she was done, pocketed the stick instead of putting it back down.
A different girl stared back at her from the mirror, with brighter hues and confidence. Curses would spill from those scarlet lips, which now twisted into a small, quivering smile. Cissy's hands fluttered over the dresser, hoping to leave everything exactly as she had found it. Uselessly-if (when) her sister came back, she was not the type to notice, nor to care, that something had been moved. Still. This empty bedroom reminded her of another and Narcissa felt wary of them both.
She swept on her heel, and hurried out, dashing down the stairs and leaving the manor so she might be able to Disapparate. Narcissa reached the headquarters and strode through corridors, looking for Lucius Malfoy's familiar face. Eventually she spotted him as he was exiting a training room. He paused, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Miss Black," he spoke coolly.
"Mr. Malfoy," she uttered through a tight throat. "Could we talk?"
He leaned his head in agreement, and she led the way to a room nearby. She turned back towards him as he was closing the door. He considered her with a calm, haughty gaze. "What is it?" he inquired.
"I thought I should let you know that I have been practising." The sentence had sounded much better in the privacy of her own head.
"And so you expect congratulations?"
She hesitated, taken off guard. He had a slow smile, a predator's.
"Convince me, Miss Black," he said. "I will believe it when I've seen it. And have some fire."
"I do," she retorted defensively.
He had a quiet laugh. She took a step towards him, incensed.
"Show me your fire," he breathed. "You must set it loose, Narcissa. Or else it will burn nothing but your pretty little self."
She tilted her head. Lucius Malfoy's face suddenly seemed too close. He had clear metal eyes and lips that were hard and sharp, a face made of arrogant, stunning planes. It felt as though this face were calling silently, with the same intent purpose as his words-fire, set it loose-, as though the room had fallen off balance. She was falling, or he was leaning towards her.
And then Lucius Malfoy's lips were on hers. She suffocated in surprise and his tongue slipped into her parted mouth, warm and sly. He was kissing her, and she was reeling, not feeling her legs. It seemed unreal. Then she reacted on instinct, under assault, and her jaw closed.
He cried out in surprise. He stumbled back two steps, a hand covering his mouth. "You bit me," he croaked in disbelief, sounding extraordinarily less composed than his ordinary self. "I can't believe… Salazar, you bit me!"
He had a nervous kind of laugh, one that came out sounding sharp as blades. Narcissa's already racing heart jumped a little in her chest. She tasted fear on her still-warm lips, where the lipstick must have gone off. She didn't dare look if she had left on him a scarlet stain of any kind, she just bolted for the door and ran away. She thought she heard him swear in the distance, or it might have been her imagination.
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The sheer idea of facing him again had nearly made her physically sick with anxiety. She was shaking so hard, when she reached the familiar training room, that it was simply impossible to control the tremors any longer, and she had no idea how she might even hold a wand steady. Yet here she was, and there was no escaping it. Her heart in her throat, Narcissa stood before Lucius Malfoy.
His face was impassive as his gaze swept over her. "Narcissa," he said. "Ready?"
She absolutely wasn't, yet confessing it was unthinkable. Cissy bowed briefly and took her stance, nails digging into her own palm as she gripped her wand.
They only duelled for a couple of flashing seconds before he interrupted the exercise. He circled her like a predator, and fear chilled her to the core. She swallowed, and attempted to breathe evenly.
"Feel it," he told her. "Feel the magic, within me, within you. It is like sparks, deep in your insides, sparks running across your skin. I know you can perceive it, a little. Open yourself to it."
He had stopped at her back. So very close, yet out of sight. His wand trailed along the length of her right arm, the tip warm from their curses.
"Feel my magic, my energy whipping through the air," he breathed near her ear. "Take it in. And then strike. Let it flow from you."
He suddenly gripped her arms. She had a small gasp.
"You can't escape," she heard him whisper to her. "That evil force is pulling you that you can't escape. It's coming from the deep… Sense it. Get aware of it. Touch it with your fingertip, then your whole consciousness-let it brush your nerve endings, it could drive you mad, the power… You can't control… You can merely unleash it. It's taking you, it's filling you, it's pulling you…"
Narcissa squeezed her eyes shut and tried to open herself to the burning, the restless energy at the core of her. It wasn't easy to think with Lucius so close, holding her hard and tight, impossible to escape-her cheeks so very hot, her head spinning-but perhaps she should not think. Perhaps she should just feel and oh, she was feeling so much. His hand slid down and grabbed her wrist, imperious. She threw the curse without taking the time to ponder it, without precision. It blasted right through the moving target Lucius had set up. A rush of energy overtook her. It felt powerful, it felt good, and she struck again, with one of those dark, lethal curses he had taught her.
"Good," he breathed, and stepped away. The lack of his commanding presence at her back set her off balance, made her hesitate again. She forced herself into rash action, taking down target after target under his sharp eye, hearing him shout comments as though from a great distance, over the rushing and bursting sounds that filled her head. By the time she had destroyed them all, she felt light-headed, ready to collapse. They stood together in ringing emptiness.
"Good," he said coolly. "I knew you had it in you. That is not enough, of course, but it is a step in the right direction. Get ready to give me some more of that bite."
Her lips tingled as she panted in exhaustion, and he turned away.
Read Part two
Author: flowsoffire
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/characters: Lucius/Narcissa, Bellatrix, Druella
Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama
Rating: M
Word count: c. 10000 total
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: In the cruel world of the Death Eaters, Narcissa Black begins a quest for perfection and success. But can control lead her to the top, or will the darkness within devour her-will she fall all the harder for all she has risen? Between holding tight and letting go, she falls off balance, and loses touch more and more. AU, Death Eater!Narcissa, rewrite of the movie Black Swan.
Author's note: *deep breath* All right. This piece was originally meant for PieceOfGum’s Halloween challenge on fanfiction.net, which consisted in writing a piece that was inspired by a famous horror movie, book, or tale. As you can see, this is quite the late entry, but I got there in the end. (Almost died in the process too…)
I chose to work on the thriller movie Black Swan. This is an AU piece in which Narcissa Black, due to both her family’s impoverishment after her father’s death and her sister Andromeda’s estrangement having thrown shame upon the family, has no choice but to join the rising organization of the Death Eaters, so as to bring some honour back to her family and regain some much-damaged prospects for her future. Narcissa’s character mirrors the movie’s main character Nina, the broken Swan Queen, in her quest for success and perfection in a cruel world. (I always did love duelling vs. dancing parallels.) Lucius stands for her demanding, seductive and charismatic director Thomas, while Bellatrix’s character is a mix of the two rival figures, embodying sensuality, the accomplished dancers with the ability to let go, which Nina so lacks-Lily and Beth. (Except that I took out the whole Nina/Lily subplot. Incest, no thank you.) You can also see the figure of the mother. Some lines come directly from the movie-Druella calling Narcissa "Sweet girl", "Attack it", the evil force taking control of Narcissa and her embracing it, the (minor) self-harming theme. The fic itself also follows the movie quite precisely, with many key scenes such as the training, the lipstick scene, the social celebration, then the party… Obviously, I don’t own Black Swan, like I don’t own HP. Just playing with it.
The end is purposefully vague-open to interpretation. I tried my best to go with the movie’s surreal feel, full of hallucinations. Feel free to discuss what you think has happened in a review!
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She stood with her back straight, her head held high, her face impassive. She had not received a mask yet, and eyes traced her features, curious, sceptical or leering. She ignored them all, keeping her gaze trained forward, on the one man who stood out in front of her. If he might be called a man at all, with his waxy features and bloodshot eyes, staring fixedly at her until she felt coldness flood her chest. Despite it all, she remained in control, her lovely face betraying nothing.
"Narcissa Black," he said softly. "Kneel."
She obeyed in one smooth movement, and extended her slim arm, which the Dark Lord gripped and coolly examined. They both looked down at her fair, unmarred skin, before the tip of a wand was pressed to it, and her eyes drifted shut. She squared her jaw and breathed deeply. The pain came as expected, yet she could not hold back a cry at the sheer blazing intensity of it; she pictured the cruel smile on his thin-lipped mouth-unless he deemed it beneath him to manifest his glee in such a way. Her limb burned and burned, until her head was spinning and she thought she might black out. But eventually, his wand parted from her flesh. He examined his handiwork, and she slowly opened her eyes to look as well. The Mark stood out, striking, against her milky skin.
"Rise," he commanded sharply, stepping away. "Mr. Malfoy, step forward."
Narcissa dragged herself to her feet as swiftly and gracefully as she could despite her wobbling legs, unwilling to betray the difficulty of performing that simple movement. She looked up at the man who was now facing her. Smooth face, flawless appearance and haughty bearing, he towered over her and considered her calmly, openly appraising her.
"What do you think?" the Dark Lord asked, and Lucius Malfoy replied:
"She seems to have potential, my Lord. Skill and steadiness, with some definite self-control."
"You will mentor her, Lucius," their master softly stated, and Narcissa felt a chill run down her spine. How coolly they discussed her fate.
"Indeed I will, my Lord, if you so wish," Lucius Malfoy responded in a murmur.
His grey eyes seized Narcissa again, staring into her very soul, it seemed. She shivered. The deed was done, and she would now need to prove herself worthy.
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"How did it all go?" Druella Black demanded, her eyes following her youngest daughter as she poured herself a cup of tea.
"Very well, Mother," Cissy stated.
She was in a hurry, and quickly arranged her cloak, checked that her wand was neatly tucked in her sleeve, breathed deeply in an attempt to slow down her frantic heartbeat. However, she still whirled around, a bit too fast, to give her mother a smile.
"I received the Mark," she said, keeping her voice steady. "And Lucius Malfoy will be mentoring me. He promised he would turn me into one of the best."
"How lovely!" Druella exclaimed, although her daughter was not quite sure the word was fitting to their current discussion. "Well, do be careful, Narcissa. Lucius Malfoy's power is only equalled by his ruthlessness, or so they say. He will be quite demanding with you… Making you his pet project, if you will."
"I do not mind." Cissy looked away again, and heard her mother sigh.
"In other circumstances, he might have wooed you, you know," she spoke in a faraway tone. "But in our current situation-after the… recent events, and with the state of the family’s fortune after your father’s death… Well. This is truly your best option, my dear. Your place in the ranks will give you the influence and purpose you would otherwise lack, so that your prospects may become so much more than what they are today."
"Indeed, Mother."
She could hear the faint smile in Druella's voice by then. "I am so proud of you, my sweet girl. You are dignified and flawless, and yet still willing to fight for your future-to cleanse our name of its former disgrace."
To repair the damage Andromeda left behind, Cissy thought. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and composed her features as she turned around. "Thank you so much. Thank you for always being there for me."
"You have no need to thank me," Druella said softly, and embraced her daughter. "I wish I could do what you can, you and your sister, to make the name of Black respected again. Go now, sweet girl."
Narcissa walked away, leaving her mother staring after her, sitting alone at the breakfast table. The young witch hurried across the hall and out of the old, dark manor, rushing for the place where she might Apparate away. She did not spare a second glance to the once-grand family estate, squaring her jaw and turning sharply, vanishing into thin air.
She reappeared near the current headquarters, and strode straight into the training area, ignoring the stares that followed her. There stood Lucius Malfoy, waiting for her, but her sister Bellatrix was the first to step forward. She dashed up to Narcissa, black curls streaming behind her, and squeezed her arms as she looked her up and down.
"Welcome to the ranks, sister." Her dark eyes were glittering with promises-and laced with shadows.
"Thank you," Narcissa murmured.
"You are going to be amazing," her sibling stated with iron conviction.
Then she turned, glares and defiance replacing pride and beams swiftly. "Why should I not be the one to mentor her?" she demanded aggressively.
"Because the Dark Lord so decided," Lucius replied smoothly. "And now, if you would kindly depart. I have business with my new apprentice."
Bellatrix fiercely glared at him, and he held her gaze without a flinch. When she whirled away, huffing disdainfully, Narcissa noticed her cheeks were flushed scarlet with frustration. She placed a quick kiss on her brow.
"Make me proud, sister," she called over her shoulder as she strode from the room.
Cissy had a small smile. She became impassive again when she turned towards Lucius, who was looking her over calmly.
"Hello, Narcissa," he said evenly. "Well, let us see what you are good for."
In a flash, he had his wand out and pointed at her. Caught off guard, she fumbled for her own, but rapidly found herself in control again, her stance perfect and a curse at the tip of her tongue.
"At three," he warned her. "One. Two. Three."
Lethal light flashed across the room. Narcissa deflected the curse he had thrown at her, sent another his way; he sidestepped and nearly got her at the legs. He reacted fast, with a controlled wildness that made his every move deadly, precise and yet very hard to predict. She was quickly overwhelmed, though she battled on fiercely, knowing she couldn't just give up. Eventually, her wand flew out of her hand, and a clever hex from him had her knocked to the ground, panting in shock.
"Not bad," he stated coldly. "But there is room for improvement… Much improvement. Up, and again."
Scrambling to her feet at once, Narcissa met his gaze. He had a small smile with a cruel edge to it. She smirked back, determined to learn.
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"No, you don't have it. Your moves quicker, wider, less restrained! You are fighting like an Order member!"
Narcissa danced out of the way of a flash of violet light, sent two hexes back and nearly went flying under his counter-curse.
"Retreat! What was that-two curses in a row and still keeping your guard up, that would be too difficult for you, perhaps? You toss your fire, and up goes the shield! You only require more smoothness. Your duelling strategy is too choreographed, your patterns predictable-get wicked! Get wild! Stop holding back, just let your instincts take over! Let the darkness at the core of you lead your way."
He kept barraging her with curses while he shouted his instructions, and Narcissa struggled to remain steady and not fall under his fierce attack. Her face was tense, her whole body taut, letting go seemed impossible… They fought surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, leering at her with obvious contempt. They all knew who she was, and probably thought that she only stood there, amongst them, Marked and Lucius Malfoy's personal apprentice, because of her sister's influence. They would all gladly have taken her down to get her place-and they could too. She wasn't safe-couldn't trust-couldn't relax. The only one in the room with no wish to get rid of her was Bellatrix, and there was fury, disappointment in her sibling's gaze…
"Stop!" Lucius called, raising his wand. She froze, panting.
"We'll try something else," he said authoritatively. "You are obviously having trouble breaking out of your pattern, and even more doing so without making yourself vulnerable. For now, I want you to forget about your guard. I will not attack. You are going to attack me. Give it your all. Throw yourself into those curses, knock me over like a storm. I want to see you savage. Feel the evil force pulling you, the dark impulse. Set it loose. Let it flow."
Narcissa swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "Go ahead," he ordered her.
She raised her wand, tried to take mere seconds to think before she sent the first curse. He deflected it easily, and she twisted and spun, struggling to take him off guard.
"Still not it," he called. "Your curses are shallow, barely brushing the surface-darkness is deep and looming. The control is still there! Your duelling is all bound up and hindered by control. Where is the danger, Narcissa? Attack me! Attack it!"
His words were hitting her harder than her curses him. Narcissa kept sending hex after hex, breathless, her heart hammering with fear and pressure. She could only see his face now, demanding and magnificent, the glint of his cold eyes. He raised his wand as if to strike back; mid-spin, she misstepped, and the next flash of light hit the wall, far above his head. She nearly fell over.
"That's enough," he snapped. "Everybody, out."
She could hear mocking whispers, even jeers as the crowd slowly made for the door. Cringing inside, she stepped forward as well, but Lucius gripped her around the wrist just as she was passing him.
"No, no, no. You are staying," he murmured.
They waited until they were fully alone; he was staring at her, but she couldn't bring herself to face him. He reached out, seizing her chin in a firm grasp, his eye meeting hers.
"Narcissa Black. So far, you have been the most useless student I have ever had," he stated coolly.
A slight shudder ran through her. She hoped he had not felt it. "I can do better," she argued in a faint voice, cheeks burning. "I know it. I have skill… technique. You know that, too."
"Yes, I most certainly do. And believe you me, I care nothing about your technique," he responded. "It is flawless and it is not enough. You are not feeling it. The darkness. You keep yourself sheltered like a coward."
"How should I learn to find it?"
His lips tightened. "Let go," he said. "Allow instinct to take over. Bloodlust. Survival. You won't be able to control it, and all the better. You will refine it later. You want a real fight? Throw yourself in it. Strip it down, make it visceral. Live every second of it, with the utmost intensity."
She nodded, her heart on her lips. His mouth curled as he surveyed her expression. "And now, out of my sight," he told her simply.
Narcissa rushed from the room, light-headed. She ran straight into somebody, felt curls whipping her face-Bellatrix. Her sister faced her, jaw tense, eyes gleaming, positively livid.
"What was that?" she asked roughly. "Do you want to mess up and lose everything when you've barely just gotten started?"
Narcissa felt like a little girl. It was hard to hold herself together, to keep up the proud façade. Inside, she could feel herself crumbling. "I've done my best," she defended herself feebly. "It was my first time… in a proper duel… with a Death Eater."
"And good job it happened to be your mentor too, or it might as well have been your last," Bellatrix hissed.
Cissy stared downwards, shaking. "I'll do better," she uttered in a low voice. "He…" She swallowed. "…explained. I can fix my mistakes, Bella, I'm sure I can."
Her sister's lip curled. "I hope so," she said distastefully. "Because this is not only about pride, or even the family, Narcissa. Success and survival are tightly bound within the ranks."
"I understand." She really did. She could sense the danger lurking, even now. It made her jolt and look over her shoulder.
Bellatrix laughed cruelly. "Not getting paranoid, are we? Well, at least you are aware of the issue. You need to work harder."
"I will," Narcissa vowed.
Her sister had a curt nod, and walked away.
As soon as she was alone, Narcissa leaned into the nearest wall, breathing deeply. But she could not afford to linger there, or to show weakness, and so she moved forward again, desperately wishing she could Disapparate from there already. In the corridors, she walked by fellow Death Eaters, some wearing their masks-they were not few. It chilled her, as though monsters were hiding underneath. She had her own mask, though, now-she ought not to be so childish. It only was engraved metal, charmed to be light and impossible to tear off by force…
"…poor wee baby," she heard as she passed an alcove.
"Real little girl, ready to faint. Malfoy could have tossed her around like a doll."
"Well, maybe he's planning to. Maybe that's why he hasn't really hurt her-yet. 'Cause she let him have his wicked way." Crude laughter rung into her ears and seeped into her bones. She had frozen in place, unable to control herself. She had heard the voices before, could recognize them-the Carrows.
Humiliation was filling her, overwhelming her, along with a more dangerous kind of dread. The sharks were tasting blood.
Cissy bolted away and eventually reached the exit, took a great gulp of the outside air. She spun immediately, not thinking to wait, and nearly arrived Splinched in front of the family manor. She rushed up the drive, the porch, through the foyer towards the stairs, her head pounding.
"Narcissa, dearest."
She screwed her eyes shut. She could not face anybody now, but still she slowly turned around, forcing a smile. "Hello, Mother."
"How did the lesson go, my dear? Are you in a hurry?"
"Rather tired, if I'm being honest." Her voice was too fast and brittle. She struggled to make it more even. "Yes, it went all right. We practised duelling for a while."
"Ah. You have always been quite good at that, correct?"
She'd thought she had. "Well, it is taken to a whole new level now, Mother. But I am learning."
"Oh."
"I am. I will be perfect." Her voice shattered on the word, and she was choking back tears.
"Oh dear," her mother said.
"It's quite all right, Mother," she managed. "A bit of pressure, that's all."
"My sweet girl." And then: "I will ask the house-elf to fetch you some tea."
"No need. I will be practising…"
"Something to eat, too. I doubt you had lunch at the headquarters, and it is already late…"
"Mother, really. Thank you. I'll be just fine."
"Well then." Druella slightly moved to her, rested an arm on her shoulders, drew her into a brief, stiff embrace. "Go, sweet girl. Make us proud."
She nodded, heart heavy and throat tight.
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Narcissa hovered on the doorstep, looking across the bright, empty room.
It was stupid of her to come there. She had spent so long, recently, down in the basement in the wide practise room-spinning and aiming and lashing out, going on and on until she stumbled and was bitten back by her own fire. Bellatrix had been there before her, had left books with margins dark with scribbled notes, some practical, some random, some downright rude. If she had left hints somewhere that might help Narcissa along the way, it would be in that room of strain and suffering. But it was something else she was currently looking for, something more volatile. Just a hint of her sister's strength, to feel more like Bellatrix-lethal, and unbreakable.
Narcissa stepped into her sister's old bedroom. The bed was neatly done, but some of her things were still scattered on the dressing table, from her last stay-the night of Narcissa's marking. No elf had dared to touch them, all dreading the wrath of Miss Bella. Cissy glided across the floor and looked down at her sister's possessions.
Slowly, she picked up a tube of lipstick. It was bloody red, such a striking colour. Although they would have complimented her fair hair and complexion, Cissy always kept well away from these, deeming them too rich and flamboyant, preferring subtler shades. It was stupid to waste time on such a thing; it was her sister's spirit she was after, not her feminity. Still Narcissa opened her mouth and slowly coated her lower lip with the smooth substance. She spread it carefully, and when she was done, pocketed the stick instead of putting it back down.
A different girl stared back at her from the mirror, with brighter hues and confidence. Curses would spill from those scarlet lips, which now twisted into a small, quivering smile. Cissy's hands fluttered over the dresser, hoping to leave everything exactly as she had found it. Uselessly-if (when) her sister came back, she was not the type to notice, nor to care, that something had been moved. Still. This empty bedroom reminded her of another and Narcissa felt wary of them both.
She swept on her heel, and hurried out, dashing down the stairs and leaving the manor so she might be able to Disapparate. Narcissa reached the headquarters and strode through corridors, looking for Lucius Malfoy's familiar face. Eventually she spotted him as he was exiting a training room. He paused, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Miss Black," he spoke coolly.
"Mr. Malfoy," she uttered through a tight throat. "Could we talk?"
He leaned his head in agreement, and she led the way to a room nearby. She turned back towards him as he was closing the door. He considered her with a calm, haughty gaze. "What is it?" he inquired.
"I thought I should let you know that I have been practising." The sentence had sounded much better in the privacy of her own head.
"And so you expect congratulations?"
She hesitated, taken off guard. He had a slow smile, a predator's.
"Convince me, Miss Black," he said. "I will believe it when I've seen it. And have some fire."
"I do," she retorted defensively.
He had a quiet laugh. She took a step towards him, incensed.
"Show me your fire," he breathed. "You must set it loose, Narcissa. Or else it will burn nothing but your pretty little self."
She tilted her head. Lucius Malfoy's face suddenly seemed too close. He had clear metal eyes and lips that were hard and sharp, a face made of arrogant, stunning planes. It felt as though this face were calling silently, with the same intent purpose as his words-fire, set it loose-, as though the room had fallen off balance. She was falling, or he was leaning towards her.
And then Lucius Malfoy's lips were on hers. She suffocated in surprise and his tongue slipped into her parted mouth, warm and sly. He was kissing her, and she was reeling, not feeling her legs. It seemed unreal. Then she reacted on instinct, under assault, and her jaw closed.
He cried out in surprise. He stumbled back two steps, a hand covering his mouth. "You bit me," he croaked in disbelief, sounding extraordinarily less composed than his ordinary self. "I can't believe… Salazar, you bit me!"
He had a nervous kind of laugh, one that came out sounding sharp as blades. Narcissa's already racing heart jumped a little in her chest. She tasted fear on her still-warm lips, where the lipstick must have gone off. She didn't dare look if she had left on him a scarlet stain of any kind, she just bolted for the door and ran away. She thought she heard him swear in the distance, or it might have been her imagination.
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The sheer idea of facing him again had nearly made her physically sick with anxiety. She was shaking so hard, when she reached the familiar training room, that it was simply impossible to control the tremors any longer, and she had no idea how she might even hold a wand steady. Yet here she was, and there was no escaping it. Her heart in her throat, Narcissa stood before Lucius Malfoy.
His face was impassive as his gaze swept over her. "Narcissa," he said. "Ready?"
She absolutely wasn't, yet confessing it was unthinkable. Cissy bowed briefly and took her stance, nails digging into her own palm as she gripped her wand.
They only duelled for a couple of flashing seconds before he interrupted the exercise. He circled her like a predator, and fear chilled her to the core. She swallowed, and attempted to breathe evenly.
"Feel it," he told her. "Feel the magic, within me, within you. It is like sparks, deep in your insides, sparks running across your skin. I know you can perceive it, a little. Open yourself to it."
He had stopped at her back. So very close, yet out of sight. His wand trailed along the length of her right arm, the tip warm from their curses.
"Feel my magic, my energy whipping through the air," he breathed near her ear. "Take it in. And then strike. Let it flow from you."
He suddenly gripped her arms. She had a small gasp.
"You can't escape," she heard him whisper to her. "That evil force is pulling you that you can't escape. It's coming from the deep… Sense it. Get aware of it. Touch it with your fingertip, then your whole consciousness-let it brush your nerve endings, it could drive you mad, the power… You can't control… You can merely unleash it. It's taking you, it's filling you, it's pulling you…"
Narcissa squeezed her eyes shut and tried to open herself to the burning, the restless energy at the core of her. It wasn't easy to think with Lucius so close, holding her hard and tight, impossible to escape-her cheeks so very hot, her head spinning-but perhaps she should not think. Perhaps she should just feel and oh, she was feeling so much. His hand slid down and grabbed her wrist, imperious. She threw the curse without taking the time to ponder it, without precision. It blasted right through the moving target Lucius had set up. A rush of energy overtook her. It felt powerful, it felt good, and she struck again, with one of those dark, lethal curses he had taught her.
"Good," he breathed, and stepped away. The lack of his commanding presence at her back set her off balance, made her hesitate again. She forced herself into rash action, taking down target after target under his sharp eye, hearing him shout comments as though from a great distance, over the rushing and bursting sounds that filled her head. By the time she had destroyed them all, she felt light-headed, ready to collapse. They stood together in ringing emptiness.
"Good," he said coolly. "I knew you had it in you. That is not enough, of course, but it is a step in the right direction. Get ready to give me some more of that bite."
Her lips tingled as she panted in exhaustion, and he turned away.
Read Part two