This Name (Lily/Narcissa)
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine but the plot!
When had it changed?
Lily Evans was bold, brazen, obnoxious, and possibly the most vibrant girl Narcissa Black had ever met.
Narcissa Black would break Lily Evans.
Narcissa happened upon this novel idea during one of James and Lucius’s duels, if you could call them that. They hardly ever got around to hurling spells. It was as if they were part of a poor comedy routine, ‘The Oblivious Prat and the Bloody Imbecile’, as Narcissa liked to refer to them. But the Malfoys had the money, and she had Lucius’s heart- she’d do anything to ensure her place, because she was a Black, and that’s what Blacks did.
She saw the vibrant, ruby-haired third year watching from the sidelines, her arms folded across her chest as if she’d rather like to hit her precious Potter. It was surprising that they could stand each other, really, but there was the loyalty and the obvious dependence. The latter was one-sided, however, which tossed a wrench into the Ice Queen’s plan- if she hit Potter, Evans would move on. But if Evans fell- if Evans fell, boy wonder would willingly follow.
Narcissa wouldn’t use petty words- Evans was always firing insults like spells, only to have Narcissa twist them and throw them right back at her. Sticks and stones.
It struck Narcissa suddenly, like a bolt of fiery lightening on the day that Potter and her perfect imbecile of a cousin were torturing Severus- (“Oi, Snivvelous!”). Evans didn’t say a word to the prats for weeks on end- she had run to the poor boy as soon as the two had let up. Boy wonder had a limp for a week.
Narcissa Black would break Lily Evans’s heart.
+++
The first time they kissed, it was in a damp, deserted corridor right outside of the Potions classroom. Evans always had been Sluggy’s favorite.
She had pushed away, her emerald eyes flashing with such absolute terror that Narcissa had almost felt guilty. She had expected anger, or a fight, even. But Lily Evans was like a captured kitten, too terrified even to make a sound, backing further and further into the dark corner until there was no escape.
Narcissa Black turned in a flurry of green and silver and raspberry mint and was gone as quickly as she had come, because Narcissa was a Black, and Black's don't say goodbye.
+++
The second time they kissed, it was in Care of Magical Creatures- the rather masculine Professor was going on about thestrals. Narcissa could see them, and by the looks of Evans’s disgusted face, so could the Gryffindor golden-girl.
Narcissa had cornered her against the base of an enormous tree, one arm on either side of the slender freckled figure. This time, there was no fear in those emerald eyes- instead, Evans stared right back at the seventh year with a fiery intensity that almost made Narcissa yank her into her arms and hold her there and claim her as her own. Almost. Because Narcissa was a Black, and Blacks don’t fall in love.
Narcissa Black smirked into the kiss.
+++
The third time, Lily kissed her. It was just after a particularly nasty duel between Lucius and the prat, and of course the two witches had done their part as always- Narcissa spat Lily’s insults right back at her with a new venom (and when had it become ‘Lily’?) and vise versa. (“Go to hell, Black.” “I’d follow you to the edges of time, dearest Evans.”)
Lily and Narcissa had been let off with a stern glance, courtesy of the ever-subtle Professor McGonagall as the two boys were carted off to that queer headmaster’s quarters.
Narcissa had been plagued at the time with a particularly relentless cold (even though Blacks did not fall ill) that Lucius had so graciously shared. She had turned to sneeze violently into her elbow, her entire body jerking with the force, and Lily had struck the moment the blonde upperclassman had regained her posture.
("Bless you.") She had whispered these words as she stepped back, her head tilted towards the ground but her eyes never leaving Narcissa's.
For the third time, both Slytherin and Gryffindor lips collided.
For the third time, both Slytherin and Gryffindor had broken the most paramount rule.
For the third time, both Slytherin and Gryffindor had crossed the one unspoken boundary.
And for the first time, the Slytherin realized that she had fallen completely and hopelessly in love with the Gryffindor that she had vowed to destroy. So Narcissa did the only thing she could think of and yanked Lily forward by that god-awful red and gold tie. Narcissa was a Black, after all, and Blacks never lose to anyone, especially Gryffindors.
Lily Evans tasted like sunshine and oranges.
***
So when had it changed?
Narcissa’s long, pale fingers ran through Lily Evans’s flaming red hair as she tried to decide on the exact moment. Lily twisted around in her lap, studying her clouded gray eyes as she braced herself against Narcissa’s knees.
But they weren’t gray, Lily would always argue. They were the loveliest shade of silver, really, and speckled with a blue that reminded her of ice.
But Narcissa knew they were gray.
And honestly, it hadn’t changed, she realized as Lily began to pull away from her (“James’ll be worried, y’know?”) and Narcissa felt that familiar mix of dread and anger (“Potter’s a prat.”). Only once Narcissa had resolved to break Lily’s heart had hers begun to break instead- only once that bitter pang of jealousy stung her heart over and over every time Lily smiled at the prat- the bloody prat who had done nothing to deserve that radiant smile. That smile was hers- that girl was hers.
It had always been there- she just hadn’t known where to look.
And when Lily married the Potter prat- when Narcissa married into the Malfoy name, it would still be there.
And that’s what hurt the most. But Narcissa was a Black, and Blacks don't feel pain.
+++
That didn't stop Narcissa from deducting House points from the Potter prat for public displays of affection the next morning.
Lily, contrary to the reaction Narcissa had expected, simply stood back with an amused smile as James spluttered in protest.
Narcissa was seething inwardly at Lily's infuriating reaction but kept a straight face- Narcissa was a Black, after all, and Merlin help her if she was going to afford Lily the satisfaction.
+++
On the night Lily Evans was murdered, Narcissa Malfoy stood by her husband’s side, icy and endlessly loyal.
On the night Lily Evans was murdered, Narcissa Malfoy accompanied her husband to the joint funeral just so that he could bask in the victory of his master and laugh in the face of his old arch-nemesis.
Their boy, Harry, had her eyes, but Narcissa Malfoy didn’t notice- he would have reminded her too much of his prat father, even if she had. But of course she didn’t.
Because on the night Lily Evans was murdered, Narcissa Black died along with her, and Narcissa Malfoy finally took her place, as had been the plan for so long now.
And not one tear fell from her icy gray eyes, because Narcissa Malfoy had been born a Black, after all.
And Blacks don't cry.
When had it changed?
Lily Evans was bold, brazen, obnoxious, and possibly the most vibrant girl Narcissa Black had ever met.
Narcissa Black would break Lily Evans.
Narcissa happened upon this novel idea during one of James and Lucius’s duels, if you could call them that. They hardly ever got around to hurling spells. It was as if they were part of a poor comedy routine, ‘The Oblivious Prat and the Bloody Imbecile’, as Narcissa liked to refer to them. But the Malfoys had the money, and she had Lucius’s heart- she’d do anything to ensure her place, because she was a Black, and that’s what Blacks did.
She saw the vibrant, ruby-haired third year watching from the sidelines, her arms folded across her chest as if she’d rather like to hit her precious Potter. It was surprising that they could stand each other, really, but there was the loyalty and the obvious dependence. The latter was one-sided, however, which tossed a wrench into the Ice Queen’s plan- if she hit Potter, Evans would move on. But if Evans fell- if Evans fell, boy wonder would willingly follow.
Narcissa wouldn’t use petty words- Evans was always firing insults like spells, only to have Narcissa twist them and throw them right back at her. Sticks and stones.
It struck Narcissa suddenly, like a bolt of fiery lightening on the day that Potter and her perfect imbecile of a cousin were torturing Severus- (“Oi, Snivvelous!”). Evans didn’t say a word to the prats for weeks on end- she had run to the poor boy as soon as the two had let up. Boy wonder had a limp for a week.
Narcissa Black would break Lily Evans’s heart.
+++
The first time they kissed, it was in a damp, deserted corridor right outside of the Potions classroom. Evans always had been Sluggy’s favorite.
She had pushed away, her emerald eyes flashing with such absolute terror that Narcissa had almost felt guilty. She had expected anger, or a fight, even. But Lily Evans was like a captured kitten, too terrified even to make a sound, backing further and further into the dark corner until there was no escape.
Narcissa Black turned in a flurry of green and silver and raspberry mint and was gone as quickly as she had come, because Narcissa was a Black, and Black's don't say goodbye.
+++
The second time they kissed, it was in Care of Magical Creatures- the rather masculine Professor was going on about thestrals. Narcissa could see them, and by the looks of Evans’s disgusted face, so could the Gryffindor golden-girl.
Narcissa had cornered her against the base of an enormous tree, one arm on either side of the slender freckled figure. This time, there was no fear in those emerald eyes- instead, Evans stared right back at the seventh year with a fiery intensity that almost made Narcissa yank her into her arms and hold her there and claim her as her own. Almost. Because Narcissa was a Black, and Blacks don’t fall in love.
Narcissa Black smirked into the kiss.
+++
The third time, Lily kissed her. It was just after a particularly nasty duel between Lucius and the prat, and of course the two witches had done their part as always- Narcissa spat Lily’s insults right back at her with a new venom (and when had it become ‘Lily’?) and vise versa. (“Go to hell, Black.” “I’d follow you to the edges of time, dearest Evans.”)
Lily and Narcissa had been let off with a stern glance, courtesy of the ever-subtle Professor McGonagall as the two boys were carted off to that queer headmaster’s quarters.
Narcissa had been plagued at the time with a particularly relentless cold (even though Blacks did not fall ill) that Lucius had so graciously shared. She had turned to sneeze violently into her elbow, her entire body jerking with the force, and Lily had struck the moment the blonde upperclassman had regained her posture.
("Bless you.") She had whispered these words as she stepped back, her head tilted towards the ground but her eyes never leaving Narcissa's.
For the third time, both Slytherin and Gryffindor lips collided.
For the third time, both Slytherin and Gryffindor had broken the most paramount rule.
For the third time, both Slytherin and Gryffindor had crossed the one unspoken boundary.
And for the first time, the Slytherin realized that she had fallen completely and hopelessly in love with the Gryffindor that she had vowed to destroy. So Narcissa did the only thing she could think of and yanked Lily forward by that god-awful red and gold tie. Narcissa was a Black, after all, and Blacks never lose to anyone, especially Gryffindors.
Lily Evans tasted like sunshine and oranges.
***
So when had it changed?
Narcissa’s long, pale fingers ran through Lily Evans’s flaming red hair as she tried to decide on the exact moment. Lily twisted around in her lap, studying her clouded gray eyes as she braced herself against Narcissa’s knees.
But they weren’t gray, Lily would always argue. They were the loveliest shade of silver, really, and speckled with a blue that reminded her of ice.
But Narcissa knew they were gray.
And honestly, it hadn’t changed, she realized as Lily began to pull away from her (“James’ll be worried, y’know?”) and Narcissa felt that familiar mix of dread and anger (“Potter’s a prat.”). Only once Narcissa had resolved to break Lily’s heart had hers begun to break instead- only once that bitter pang of jealousy stung her heart over and over every time Lily smiled at the prat- the bloody prat who had done nothing to deserve that radiant smile. That smile was hers- that girl was hers.
It had always been there- she just hadn’t known where to look.
And when Lily married the Potter prat- when Narcissa married into the Malfoy name, it would still be there.
And that’s what hurt the most. But Narcissa was a Black, and Blacks don't feel pain.
+++
That didn't stop Narcissa from deducting House points from the Potter prat for public displays of affection the next morning.
Lily, contrary to the reaction Narcissa had expected, simply stood back with an amused smile as James spluttered in protest.
Narcissa was seething inwardly at Lily's infuriating reaction but kept a straight face- Narcissa was a Black, after all, and Merlin help her if she was going to afford Lily the satisfaction.
+++
On the night Lily Evans was murdered, Narcissa Malfoy stood by her husband’s side, icy and endlessly loyal.
On the night Lily Evans was murdered, Narcissa Malfoy accompanied her husband to the joint funeral just so that he could bask in the victory of his master and laugh in the face of his old arch-nemesis.
Their boy, Harry, had her eyes, but Narcissa Malfoy didn’t notice- he would have reminded her too much of his prat father, even if she had. But of course she didn’t.
Because on the night Lily Evans was murdered, Narcissa Black died along with her, and Narcissa Malfoy finally took her place, as had been the plan for so long now.
And not one tear fell from her icy gray eyes, because Narcissa Malfoy had been born a Black, after all.
And Blacks don't cry.