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It had been months, but Narcissa's hands did not know time. They shook because she would not let herself think too hard, and pent-up energy released in the form of this weakness. She only allowed herself to acknowledge it at the cause of an expensive teacup or prettily painted plate shattering. She'd slap her wrists with each hand, like her nerves would finally start listening to her brain directly and not to themselves. It never helped. She never went to fix it, either.
There wasn't much Narcissa did except watch the clock tick by and attend mealtimes as usual, pretending the sight of an empty chair wasn't the reason she would later, privately, heave into the sink. Without asking the house elves, she'd clean up her own mess, then continue with the rest of her day normally, like nothing had altered her, and as if life wasn't gleefully making itself torturous for Narcissa Malfoy.
Malfoy. She was no longer one, she supposed. Not that she'd ever resort to dropping from Malfoy back to Black, because she knew better than that — admitting defeat, because death had decided to take away her beloved husband.
Lucius Malfoy had been no good husband, but there was a time Narcissa had loved him more than the world could understand — the same time that Lucius had loved her back so wholly himself. But whenever Narcissa would try explain this to Draco, she knew it didn't change a thing. Lucius Malfoy was once the man she had loved; now, he was a corpse, and a little before that, just a miserable excuse of a husband.
Narcissa persisted not to dwell on these intricate mazes her mind built, making her doubt every second of her life, over and over again. Had it been right to marry Lucius? Had it been right to let Sirius go yet never know the pain with which she mourned him? Had it been right?
All the wrong questions — because it was not right, not even a little bit. 'Right' was the most wrong word to phrase it of all.
With shaking fingers, Narcissa traced the golden pattern on her bowl, her afternoon tea sitting there and simply getting cold. This wouldn't do. She was being a terrible mother to Draco, and that had not escaped her notice. But she had been terrible since the day she let her son get the Dark Mark.
Narcissa walked to Draco's room leisurely, well aware she would find her son there as always, nose stuffed in a book and shooting out incoherent replies. She had seen the state of his desk and bedside table, the strewn papers and feather-abused quills, and a remaining copy of the Daily Prophet which announced the death of Lucius Malfoy from a couple of months ago.
"Afternoon tea," Narcissa called lightly, knocking tender knuckles against Draco's bedroom door. There was a grunting noise from inside and the sound of her son approaching to let her in. Narcissa smiled sadly, knowing how much it took for Draco these days to do even just that. Politeness was the only thing holding them together, even if it held them heartbreakingly distanced.
"Thank you, Mother." Words died on his tongue each time. Draco furrowed his brows, scanning Narcissa like it pained him to see her hurting this way, just as it pained her to feel her son's agony from so far away. Wisely, Draco chose not to speak whatever he wished to, and shut the door after taking in the food.
"Eat it all," Narcissa went to comment lastly, something like exhaustion revealing itself from the depths of her throat, itching to get out.
"I will."
She wasn't sure if it was a lie or the truth. Narcissa found she would be surprised at either. Then what did she expect? Frowning, Narcissa figured the answers weren't reaching her at all, and that she must have gone spectacularly air-headed from staying inside Malfoy Manor so much.
With a sigh, Narcissa knew what she'd do next, even if the lady she wished to contact wanted nothing more to do with her after the war.
Narcissa sent an Owl to Evelyn Zabini.
Dear Ms Zabini,
As a mother of a son, this is a favour I hope can benefit the both of us.
Malfoy Manor feels empty. I fear death still surrounds us even now, ageing yet foul all the same. I heard of you latest husband's passing. My condolences.
Being widowed myself, I plead we look past our indifferences, and begin anew. The presence of yourself and your son Blaise at dinner tomorrow night or the night after would be appreciated, as I imagine Draco feels the same.
Reuniting with old friends — that is what I ask for. Our lives have been emptied, and I am shamelessly admitting to wanting to fill them once more.
Contact me as soon as you are able to, please.
Sincerely,
Narcissa M.
It didn't take long to receive a response, Narcissa was surprised to find. Her albino owl returned not too late the next day, and Narcissa ignored the shaking of her hands as she sliced the envelope seal open with her ruby-stoned silver dagger, a gift Lucius had given her on their first honeymoon, now just a misty memory of lost love.
The envelope was quite obviously Zabini-imprinted, sealed with the stamp of House Zabini. It was no secret that Evelyn Zabini had managed to climb up the rank of importance by single-handedly engrossing her life with wedding bells and family chests of gold. Still, nobody could prove if she killed her husbands, or that she stole their fortunes, as she had the money earned through her husbands' wills. Narcissa didn't even know the truth, and she was, or at least had been, one of Evelyn's only acquaintances on friendly terms.
Dear Narcissa,
It pleases me to see you haven't forgotten about us, and even more so that you still respect my wishes and didn't use my name in greeting. For both, I am thankful.
Though I dislike Malfoy Manor endlessly, knowing the Dark Lord himself stepped foot and spilled blood there without mercy, I have a kind enough soul to recognise your grief with the little words you wrote to me in your letter.
It warms my heart, despite my best intentions, that you trust me so dearly still, and attempt to regain our acquaintance. It makes me ill at how convincing you can be. You know my issue of loneliness has greatly deepened since the war, and in similar sense, I have not been parading around to ask for help with it from those who believe I was wholly on the wrong side of the war.
Dinner would be nice. Blaise hates the very idea, but our boys have been close since school, so it can't be that bad. He is now bitterly agreeing to dinner at Malfoy Manor, with the likes of you and Draco, no less. Isn't that improvement?
I'm sure you can hear the dislike in this letter already, but if at any point missed my sarcasm, I am highlighting it now. Blaise and I are attending this dinner for the chance at healing. We did not want to associate ourselves with your kind... but that goal was lost since the war, so maybe I'm being hypocritical, but need I remind you that us Zabinis kept ourselves at distance from the war? And yet you attract our attention once more, Narcissa.
We will see you the night of the day this letter arrives.
Kind regards,
E. Zabini
Narcissa dropped the letter as if she had been burnt. She sighed and slid further into her seat, pursing her lips with distaste. Yet she was amused to see that Evelyn had not changed, to say the least. She was still sarcastic and no good at making any sense. Draco said as much about Blaise, who seemed to have inherited his mother's composure as well.
Narcissa folded the letter, deep blue ink written on pale pink paper, and slid it back into the envelope. She stroked at her owl's side, mouth twisting at the visualisation of having Evelyn down her throat at every moment throughout the dinner. Hopefully, she could keep herself composed.
At the sound of footsteps, Narcissa turned immediately. Draco never seemed to come around, so whenever he did, Narcissa made use of it as much as she could.
"Draco," she murmured, hiding the delight in her tone. Gently, she offered him a hand, and Draco took it hesitantly.
"Mother. I was just- walking." Draco shuffled on the spot. "It's been a bit..."
"Dreadful," Narcissa finished for him, nodding her head firmly. She thinned her lips and, for a short second, embraced her son. Very quickly, she let go, then snapped her fingers to call for a house elf.
With a crack, one Apparated by her feet. "Mistress Malfoy," the house elf squeaked. She nearly went on her knees, but Narcissa didn't waste time with her order.
"We will be having Ms Zabini and her son here for dinner, so please prepare a feast for then."
"Yes, Mistress Malfoy."
"Thank you. You are dismissed."
As the house elf Disapparated, Draco shot his mother an incredulous look. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I only just got her letter back." Narcissa allowed herself to crumple onto a seat, clasping her hands together, lips pursed in thought.
"Blaise hates me," Draco added, shock still evident in his voice. "Did you know?"
"No," Narcissa said, not a lie but not entirely a truth.
"Well, he does. He'll be sour about having to come here again. I'm... actually surprised Ms Zabini accepted your..."
"My invite, yes. She did. I wish I could say I'm not surprised, but... I hadn't been expecting her acceptance either, I suppose."
Draco looked sickened. But he sat down next to Narcissa nonetheless, grasping his mother's hand. "You need this," he stated, sounding like he'd just had a big realisation.
Narcissa shook her head. "Maybe. I did this for you too, Draco."
Draco snorted. "You should've invited Theo." He tried to sound nonchalant, but it caused Narcissa to smile.
"And why's that?"
"I told you, Blaise and I aren't on the best of terms anymore."
"Mr Nott used to be acquainted with Lucius, dear. It hardly makes sense for me to invite a man over. Maybe Theo can come around, but only him. I'm a widowed woman now, Draco, you know that."
Draco's expression darkened. "Right, yes. Apologies, Mother."
"Is there any other reason you insist on inviting Theo, Draco?" Narcissa raised an eyebrow, an all-knowing look crossing her face.
"No," Draco denied instantly. He sighed after, leaning backwards and pointedly not looking in his mother's direction, directing his stare to his manicured nails instead. "Theo and I are still on speaking terms, though. It's going to be difficult with Blaise..."
"Certainly, that's one of the reasons." Narcissa eyed the clock again. "But you can tell me the others later. I suggest we start getting ready. Fix yourself up something nice." She gestured to his casual outfit, prompting for a suit or clothing more formal.
Draco nodded, and headed back to his room. Narcissa slowly made an approach to her own bedroom, one that she used to share with Lucius. Disregarding the thump of overwhelming emotion at the thought, Narcissa began searching for an outfit at once. She went through several blue dresses, and some others similarly made of the finest silk, before settling on a silvery dress too short usually for her tastes.
The dress relied on an open back for anyone looking to be revealing, otherwise its glamour was supplied by the sparkling silver of its colour. Narcissa hardly wore things like it anymore, like she used to in her teenage years, and so for a moment she felt beautiful and young again. Then the sorrow came, by the memories of Lucius' eyes raking over her figure and the way he had gotten down on one knee that one fateful day. The image was seared onto her eyelids whenever she closed them.
Shuddering out a shaky breath, Narcissa exited the master bedroom and didn't look back.
***
When Narcissa knocked on Draco's door for possibly the third or fourth time that day, she had the dawning feeling of sudden hope. She wasn't sure why, but she welcomed the emotion all too eagerly.
"Oh Draco, you look perfect!" Narcissa straightened her son's tie and glanced appreciatively up and down his choice of wear.
Draco looked stunningly good in the dark green blazer he wore over a white button-up. His trousers accompanied the greenish colour and the silver dragon necklace was jewellery other than his emerald earrings that complimented the rest of his outfit.
"They'll be here soon," Narcissa noted, taking a quick look at the time and biting her lip. "Is it odd that I'm nervous?"
Draco scoffed. "Father always said there was no time for nerves."
Narcissa smiled at her son's blatancy and fixed his collar on habit. "Yes, he did, didn't he? But I can't help it."
Before Draco could respond, a house elf Apparated into the room and chirpily delivered the news that Blaise and Ms Zabini had arrived.
"Always early," Narcissa sighed amusedly. She took Draco by the elbow, and at a proper pace, they made it to the door to greet their guests.
Evelyn's eyes widened for a moment when the door swung open. They flickered, before her expression returned to its neutral state. "Narcissa," she said, warmly enough to make Narcissa blink twice.
"So good to see you, Evelyn." Narcissa stepped aside with Draco and nodded at Blaise in acknowledgment.
"Hello, Mrs Malfoy. And... Draco." The mother and son duo walked in, and Narcissa shut the door behind them, smiling warily.
"How have you both been?" She linked arms with Draco again, and found Evelyn did the same with Blaise. It was like they had separated themselves onto sides even still — even when they were trying so hard to melt into the comfort they had created around each other before. Admittedly, Purebloods' definition of 'comfort' managed to differ quite a bit, but they had all come to realise they preferred it over this.
"We've been mostly fine, although my husband's death was excruciating to go through." Evelyn made one of her famously convincing pouty faces and leaned into Narcissa's space, which happened to surprise Narcissa, despite her air of nonchalance.
"Oh yes. I'm very sorry to hear of it, Evelyn." Narcissa, taking advantage of the sudden closeness, leaned in further to kiss the space between Evelyn Zabini's cheek and the air. Then she went and did the same to her other cheek. "It's unpleasant for everyone. So many people were lost..."
Evelyn seemed to blink out of the shock Narcissa had caused her. "Er, yes. Quite. I honestly can't believe you're so sad about that sod, though. Lucius was turning out to be awful since long ago, Narcissa dear. Surely even you could see that?"
Narcissa had. Shame collected at her chest, like flames trying to steam their way out. "I loved Lucius, Evelyn. That is what you know. And I lost him, ever since he went to Azkaban, and due to his idiocy, got the damned Dementor's Kiss. You're right, but I can't help having loved him."
Quiet settled over them, a blanket of discomfort Narcissa didn't mean to cause. It disturbed her how quickly the topic of Lucius Malfoy had her grasping at the evils she thought she had rejected years ago.
"Sorry," Narcissa found herself saying, kneading her forehead and continuing on dryly, "maybe we should speak of other things, and not our statuses now has widowed wives, yes?"
Evelyn managed to crack a small smile. "Sounds much more pleasant." She turned to her son and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You and Draco should head up to his room. Catch up on things, okay? We'll call you when it's properly dinnertime."
Eventually, Blaise nodded, barely glancing in Draco's direction as the two boys went off to probably sit in silence and share death stares before getting anywhere remotely helpful.
"Those cowards," Evelyn simply sighed. She shot Narcissa a knowing smile. "You know, Blaise quite enjoyed Draco's presence. He told me once that Draco didn't care for his blatant show of homosexuality. Back in school, Blaise made trouble by hooking up with girls and boys. His father had horrid things to say about it. Needless to say, I'm unapologetically glad the man's dead."
Narcissa paused in her tracks. "You killed him too, didn't you?" She wasn't disappointed or shocked or anything of the sort. Maybe she was a little entertained.
Evelyn grinned sharply. "No way to prove it, so I won't confess it. Accidental death, you must understand."
"Must believe, more like it."
Evelyn laughed loudly. She always took up space like that, voice forever bursting with meaningful sound. "You're still the quiet secretly humorous girl from back in school at Hogwarts, aren't you?"
At this, Narcissa smiled. "When you phrase it so admirably, it's hard for me to reject the impression, Evelyn."
"Oh come, Narcissa, let's sit," Evelyn said, almost squealing, face brought to youth once more. "Merlin, I didn't realise how much I've missed you. You've got a tongue on you, haven't you? It always amuses me!"
Narcissa allowed Evelyn to settle them down on armchairs, facing each other, and indulged her insistent questioning.
"Rumours have come around to say you lied to the Dark Lord in order to save the Potter boy, in exchange of knowing if Draco was safe!" Evelyn inched closer at every word, like she'd be deeply disappointed if this news was to be an untruly spun tale.
"Well, yes..." Narcissa began carefully, but had no time to specify further, for Evelyn screeched at the confirmation.
"You are a crazy woman, Narcissa! I love it! Tell me more, please indulge me, I cannot wait to hear of what happened after!"
"Nothing happened after," Narcissa responded with a quiet laugh. "I got Lucius to get us out of there, meaning me and Draco and himself, of course. Then, thanks to Harry Potter, the Dark Lord was killed and..."
"And?" Evelyn encouraged hopefully.
"Should we even call him the Dark Lord?" Narcissa suddenly piped up, face wrinkling at the show of respect Voldemort still held against them. The habit hadn't worn off any of the other ex-Death Eaters either, she presumed.
Yet Evelyn frowned at the question. "What else is there to call him? Everyone flinches at Voldemort, but 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' sounds so... illiterate, if you ask me."
Narcissa cracked a weak smile. "That's true, but I can't bear to show any sort of respect to the monster. Calling him the 'Dark Lord' seems to uphold our past beliefs. The wrong beliefs, I am sure to know now."
Evelyn blinked, gaze seemingly assessing Narcissa, ever-observant brown eyes probably pinpointing all her weak points. "Your hands- Narcissa, your hands are shaking," she said finally, and it snapped Narcissa into reality so hard she felt concussed.
"Oh dear," Narcissa muttered, entangling her fingers together like if she held them tightly enough they wouldn't tremble as they did now.
"Are you alright? Narcissa? How about tea, would you want tea?" Evelyn kept asking her questions, trying to bring her back from the edge of reality where it just fell into mental destruction.
"Tea. Yes, I like tea. Shall I fetch some?" Narcissa stood up like she was about to fall, and Evelyn immediately stood as well, grabbing Narcissa by the arm and guiding them both to the kitchen.
"You're going to be okay, Narcissa. You're going to be fine. I'm here. I'm here to help." Ever so gently, Narcissa felt the prickles of Evelyn's fingertips gliding across her skin, following her lines of tension and ending up at her hands. Narcissa wanted to break down from the realisation that they hadn't stopped shaking.
"This happens," Narcissa mumbled, voice terribly weakened. "It's alright, really, it is. Some nice warm tea will do the trick." Even though she knew it never did. But maybe by then she'd have the decency to pull herself together.
Evelyn wasn't staring at Narcissa judgementally though, as she was glad to find. In fact, Evelyn looked worried, lingering around Narcissa and at times even checking her pulse like it had the capability to come to a sudden stop.
"Don't worry yourself over me," Narcissa grunted, and it was inelegant alongside all the words she had ever spoken in her life. Narcissa always took things in her stride with elegance. It was outright embarrassing that Evelyn Zabini was the one who could bring her to such inelegance.
Evelyn sighed and took Narcissa's hand in hers, clutching tightly. "If you say so. Shall we call the boys down for dinner?"
"It would be best, yes," Narcissa answered firmly. Anything to get their minds off her state of health.
Still doubtful, Evelyn called down Draco and Blaise, who sat at the table looking much more at ease than before. Evelyn discreetly helped Narcissa to her seat before sitting down as well. The air crystallised into a form of tension, and Narcissa had to ignore it in favour of having the feast suddenly be Apparated in front of them.
"This looks so good," Blaise groaned. "Mother got rid of all the house elves in House Zabini, so we haven't had a well-made meal in ages."
"My cooking is just fine, thank you," Evelyn snapped. Draco began chortling at his friend's merciless commentary.
"It's true," Blaise continued to complain, "I'm living in a madwoman's house! All her husbands are successfully haunting us in their afterlives. And every single of them knew better than to eat the stuff she cooked."
Evelyn glared across the table at her son. Narcissa's lips twitched as Draco's laughter increased and Blaise started smirking, pleased with himself.
As the sun filtered through the windows and warmth spread around them, tingling and sweet despite the haunting past, Malfoy Manor lowered its defences and everyone breathed for once — heat cascaded the walls, and the manor so cold once before warmed.
***
Weeks later, Evelyn Zabini showed up at Malfoy Manor's door once more.
"I brought fruitcake," she offered, like an exchange for Narcissa's time.
Distractedly, Narcissa eyed Evelyn's ring finger. No replacement husband yet, she noted. "Delicious. Come in."
They each took their seats across one another, and Evelyn seemed to be hasty despite herself. "Sorry, I just came back from a visit to the Ministry. They're still pressing charges, honestly, you wouldn't believe it. I reckon they're in it more for the money than for bringing justice. An excuse for the heroes, all over again."
Narcissa sighed. "Harry Potter may be the only one who deserves that title."
"Yes, he was a hero, unfortunately. Some kid killed Voldemort, you do realise. Against him, everyone just looks pathetic, don't we?" Evelyn laughed self-deprecatingly.
"And we're the villains," Narcissa hummed. "We're here to make them look good, I imagine. But I owe Harry Potter a devastating amount of thanks. One of my life debts, I suppose."
"A life debt of yours is to owe up to Hero-Potter?" Evelyn snorted. "Fuck, it's so weird I knew his dad."
"Please, don't start telling me a story about how you managed to beguile James Potter..."
"Oh no! Never! Ugh." Evelyn began to laugh, and Narcissa quietly joined her in their bout of laughter. "Salazar, Narcissa, I'd never raise my standards so low as to date James fucking Potter. Plus, he was much too young for us! Same age as your cousin Sirius- weren't they close friends? Actually, I distinctly remember them dooming all us Slytherins with rainbow hair..."
Narcissa didn't realise it, but she laughed louder. "My goodness! Oh, how could I forget? Yes, he wasn't exactly boyfriend material, but it didn't stop that redheaded girl Severus was so obsessed with from marrying him."
"Oh yes. Lily Evans." Evelyn pursed her lips at this. "Now, that's certainly someone I would've pursued if she had been in my age range. I only really saw her as an adult once. She was... kind."
Narcissa frowned, ignoring the way her heart had started to pound loudly against her chest, like a drum that made her ears sensitive to the blood rushing in them. "You fancied Lily Evans?"
"A year after she had graduated, we met as she was asking for some sort of already-made potion. I eventually smuggled it from Severus. Never told her that though, neither the fact that she was flaming hot." Evelyn cracked a small grin, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Is it weird I feel bad? She died so young. But I didn't even know the girl, Narcissa. I'm still so sad for her."
"Well, Evelyn, sounds like you're human," Narcissa commented dryly. It diffused the sinking sadness, and their breakout of tearful laughter made way for a brighter conversation. "But seriously, you didn't answer my question!"
"Why, jealous?" Evelyn joked, and it had Narcissa's cheeks blooming pink. "I technically did answer your question, darling. I said I found her hot. But I was never close enough to catch feelings, unlike poor little Sev."
"Don't mock the dead, Evelyn." Narcissa was eternally grateful to Severus Snape, so she didn't appreciate too much slander on his end, not after all he had done.
"You're right, you're right. Anyway, let's focus on the future, yeah?" Evelyn leaned in, eyes taking on a light of mischievousness.
"Like why exactly you're visiting in the first place?"
Evelyn smirked. "Precisely."
***
They ended up strolling around the manor's gardens, with Narcissa helpless to the urge to start droning on about plants and flowers.
So, when Evelyn so suddenly brought this to a stop and complete subject change, it had Narcissa trying to grapple for steady footing on the conversation.
"Narcissa, I'm a lesbian."
Maybe Narcissa always inwardly knew this, but it was such an unexpected statement, she thought she had hallucinated it for a moment.
"Sorry. I just had to get that out."
"Why?" It was a dumb question, coming out in a way Narcissa didn't mean it to. "Sorry, I meant, just..."
"I'm a fucking queer, what else is there to explain?" Evelyn scoffed. "And I'm going to point out that I certainly don't care what you think, alright? Although I doubt you won't be accepting, as you already know about Blaise..."
"No, I know! I know. That's not what I meant. Just- why are you telling me? You know it doesn't matter to me much, Evelyn. I thought it was almost safe to assume so, after you admitted Evans was an attractive sort. I honestly think it's absolute rubbish to determine heterosexual relationships as the 'proper' one. Almost always have." Narcissa sighed, pressing her lips together. "But why are you telling me?"
Evelyn inhaled shakily. "Because I'm a bitch who has never had a friend before, not really, not since you started acting like one. It's pathetic. But I always expect you to accept everything about me, and I've realised this is because you're... well, I perceive you as a friend."
Narcissa's eyes had blown out wide, lips parting carefully at the brink of answering. "I'm- I'm so glad." She blinked quickly, trying to distract herself from the moment's emotional impact and the tears threatening to fall. "Um, thank you."
Evelyn, seemingly relieved, broke out into a smile. "I guess with two gay cousins, you were already a bit exposed to the whole homosexuality thing."
Narcissa paused at this. "Two gay cousins?" She squinted at Evelyn, then her eyes grew wide. "You're... you're kidding, right?"
"Hardly. Regulus was obviously gay, sweetheart. He was eyeing up Potter the same way Sev always did to Evans. Except, less creepily, maybe. I imagine it was from the strain of wanting to keep his brother safe, despite everything they went through."
It still broke Narcissa's heart to travel so far into the past, to when she had doted over Regulus and to when they were all suddenly banned from any interaction with Sirius. This is why she didn't want the Black name; it would take her back to the family who were all either dead or so full of trauma it reminded Narcissa of her own. Their childhoods were ruined because of the Black family name. She didn't want it on her back again, causing a restless ache.
"So, he was gay," Narcissa hummed. She tucked a strand of paler hair behind her ear and avoided Evelyn's gaze. "None of us even found his body, you know. Of course, nobody could miss Bella's joy in murdering Sirius. Merlin, that time was awful..."
"Yes, I remember you being in a wreck. Your fucker of a husband didn't do a thing but tell you to act proper — at hearing the news of your own cousin dying." Evelyn shook her head, and quickly pounced at Narcissa's hand, gripping it with a sudden determination.
"Evelyn..." Narcissa gasped.
"Look, I don't want to force anything out, but I know you had a secret relationship with Alice Fortescue back then, when we were all still in school. Before Lucius and you fell so disgustingly in love."
Narcissa blanched, and in her panic, tried to pry her hand from Evelyn's clutches, but the woman held it alarmingly tightly.
"I'm not judging you, obviously. Obviously. I just think you ought to know that I know, alright?"
Narcissa nodded, feeling very dazed. There was an uncomfortable swooping in her stomach as Evelyn leaned even closer, nearer than she ever had before.
There was an electric moment of silence and tension that stretched out between them.
"Fortescue was a pretty girl," Narcissa admitted, unable to look away from Evelyn.
"She was," Evelyn agreed. "Which is why I was so jealous."
They were a hair's breadth away from... something. Something electric. Something they both wanted.
Narcissa just wished she could understand what it was, making her heart practically cause thunder and for heat to flood her face, causing pale white skin to project a rosy flush.
Her question was answered when Evelyn closed the distance between their lips. Plump, soft things that encased hers with such sweetness.
Narcissa gasped at the sensation, then even more so when she snapped into the moment of what was happening. Evelyn pressed in a bit more, like exposing a bit of her longing, before pulling away. When Narcissa met her gaze next, there was vivid fear oozing from her deep brown eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Evelyn blurted out.
Narcissa blinked rapidly a few times, feeling breathless and- and elated. She hadn't felt like this since Lucius Malfoy... and maybe Alice Fortescue, given the fact that her palms laid on a women's chest rather than the broad one of a man's. She thrived at the touch nonetheless.
"Narcissa?" It was very rare to hear Evelyn sound so unsure.
Narcissa cleared her throat. "No need to apologise. That was," she paused, "enjoyable."
Evelyn's eyes widened, before a tentative grin split across her face. "Really?"
"Truly."
Evelyn positively glowed. "That's good."
"Yes," Narcissa murmured. She licked her lips, mind wandering. "Maybe you can come over tomorrow, and we can explore, um, whatever this is further."
Evelyn sounded just as breathless as Narcissa felt when she responded with a small hurried, "yes, excellent, great..."
***
The candlelight glowed soothingly against the darkness of the room. It was one of the guest rooms, with a bed just as comfortable as any other.
And Narcissa had quite clearly lost her mind, sitting by the edge of the bed and carefully easing off the straps of her dress before pulling it down and revealing a more naked form of herself.
The 'tomorrow' Narcissa had mentioned yesterday had come, with Evelyn standing at her doorstep and looking far too excited for something that was still going unspoken.
"You're beautiful," Evelyn whispered now, rarely warm gaze drinking in Narcissa's bare legs, arms and torso.
Narcissa's cheeks tinted pink. "I'm aware." She smiled and gently came forwards, slowly helping Evelyn unbutton her own dress. Evelyn had begun shaking as much as Narcissa was by now.
Finally, as the last pieces of their clothing dropped to the floor, they could let their gazes rake over one another without limit.
Breaths shaky, Evelyn lowered Narcissa to the bed, climbing over her with eyes full of pure, filthy want.
"Till Draco starts wondering where his mother his, you're mine," Evelyn whispered, "and I'm not giving you back."
"Aren't you? Am I just another husband to poison later?" Narcissa raised an eyebrow, trying to keep some sort of composure, even as bit by bit she was falling apart. "The debts to pay of widows with sons, I guess..."
"No, Narcissa, never," Evelyn hissed, sounding surprisingly hurt. "Never," and it sounded incredibly genuine.
"Okay," Narcissa responded with a small, victorious smile.
When their lips met again, it felt as if they didn't disconnect until the afternoon.