New Year Drabble: Torn Lace (Harry Potter)
Title: Torn Lace
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Narcissa Black-Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy
Word Count: 612
Prompt: You’re late
For scaratthedisco who asked for one of my New Year drabbles
“You’re late.” Narcissa didn’t even bother turning around from the mirror where she was putting on the finishing touches to her makeup. When her husband walked over to kiss her cheek, she deliberately turned away to pick up a makeup brush just out of her reach.
Lucius stepped back, not sure if he was in a position to apologize just yet. It wasn’t just that he was late. These days, he was always running behind as he struggled to be everywhere he needed to be, watching everyone who might think they could rest on their laurels now that the Dark Lord was absent.
No, if she wanted him to apologize for anything, he was sure it was because he hadn’t been home yesterday for Draco’s birthday. It hadn’t bothered the three-year old who didn’t know the difference between yesterday and the day before. The party was tonight, after all. This was the night that really mattered and he was here, ready to show everyone what a proud father he was. Draco was turning out to be quite the chip off the old block. It wasn’t hard to claim him when he was such a natural. The first words he’d learned to say were, “No, stupid Dobby.” Such a quick learner.
It was hard to apologize for something he didn’t think of as wrong. The Dark Lord would have frowned on him feeling guilty for doing his job. If Narcissa was waiting for him to say those hated words before she would give him the time of day again, she would have to wait a bit longer.
“I’ll see you downstairs. The guests will be here at seven?”
Narcissa didn’t even have the time to work up a decent glare before he was gone. The sudden silence of the room was broken only by the grinding of her back teeth against each other. There was nothing she could do but plaster a smile on her face so her precious Draco’s party was perfect.
But she couldn’t help but think of all the tiny details she alone had been in charge of over the past month. Every moment of the evening had been thought out so that nothing could go wrong, taking every bit of her planning prowess until her nerves were stretched so thin she could feel them straining as she took a breath into her lungs. She would prove, once and for all, that she was going to be a great mother no matter what people thought. Her blood line was every bit as impeccable as her husband’s was, but for a few tarnishes here and there that were no fault of hers. For her son, she would burn those black marks from her family tree so that they never existed. He will only know the power of his name.
With an inflated sense of pride to cover over her bruised ego and hurting soul, Narcissa stood to her feet, her head held high. Turniing to sweep from the room as one befitting her station, she slid just a fraction too close to her armoire. The lace of the dress, the most expensive feature of the entire ensemble, hooked on to the metal knob. Without thinking, Narcissa tugged at it instead of bending down to patiently detach herself. The work of her dressmaker unraveled in less than a second.
The trials and tribulations of the last month battered on her, reminding her that she was nothing but a fraud in a priceless dress. If anyone was going to ruin Draco’s party, it would be his mother. As her brittle heart scattered about her in a thousand small pieces, Narcissa sunk to the floor and wept.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Narcissa Black-Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy
Word Count: 612
Prompt: You’re late
For scaratthedisco who asked for one of my New Year drabbles
“You’re late.” Narcissa didn’t even bother turning around from the mirror where she was putting on the finishing touches to her makeup. When her husband walked over to kiss her cheek, she deliberately turned away to pick up a makeup brush just out of her reach.
Lucius stepped back, not sure if he was in a position to apologize just yet. It wasn’t just that he was late. These days, he was always running behind as he struggled to be everywhere he needed to be, watching everyone who might think they could rest on their laurels now that the Dark Lord was absent.
No, if she wanted him to apologize for anything, he was sure it was because he hadn’t been home yesterday for Draco’s birthday. It hadn’t bothered the three-year old who didn’t know the difference between yesterday and the day before. The party was tonight, after all. This was the night that really mattered and he was here, ready to show everyone what a proud father he was. Draco was turning out to be quite the chip off the old block. It wasn’t hard to claim him when he was such a natural. The first words he’d learned to say were, “No, stupid Dobby.” Such a quick learner.
It was hard to apologize for something he didn’t think of as wrong. The Dark Lord would have frowned on him feeling guilty for doing his job. If Narcissa was waiting for him to say those hated words before she would give him the time of day again, she would have to wait a bit longer.
“I’ll see you downstairs. The guests will be here at seven?”
Narcissa didn’t even have the time to work up a decent glare before he was gone. The sudden silence of the room was broken only by the grinding of her back teeth against each other. There was nothing she could do but plaster a smile on her face so her precious Draco’s party was perfect.
But she couldn’t help but think of all the tiny details she alone had been in charge of over the past month. Every moment of the evening had been thought out so that nothing could go wrong, taking every bit of her planning prowess until her nerves were stretched so thin she could feel them straining as she took a breath into her lungs. She would prove, once and for all, that she was going to be a great mother no matter what people thought. Her blood line was every bit as impeccable as her husband’s was, but for a few tarnishes here and there that were no fault of hers. For her son, she would burn those black marks from her family tree so that they never existed. He will only know the power of his name.
With an inflated sense of pride to cover over her bruised ego and hurting soul, Narcissa stood to her feet, her head held high. Turniing to sweep from the room as one befitting her station, she slid just a fraction too close to her armoire. The lace of the dress, the most expensive feature of the entire ensemble, hooked on to the metal knob. Without thinking, Narcissa tugged at it instead of bending down to patiently detach herself. The work of her dressmaker unraveled in less than a second.
The trials and tribulations of the last month battered on her, reminding her that she was nothing but a fraud in a priceless dress. If anyone was going to ruin Draco’s party, it would be his mother. As her brittle heart scattered about her in a thousand small pieces, Narcissa sunk to the floor and wept.