No Looking Back

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Story Notes:
The ring is beautiful, of course. Narcissa would expect nothing less from a Malfoy. The band is silver and the stone is a dark sapphire that actually almost matches the color of her eyes. Lucius chose well: both the ring and the bride. She is not yet used to wearing it yet. It is heavy on her finger, and she sometimes feels as if it is a chain binding her to a future she accepts but does not particularly want.

She stares at it and wonders why she can’t be mindless and happy about her engagement. The other girls in Slytherin can’t stop looking at it, cooing over her getting such a ‘good catch’ in Lucius Malfoy, and telling her how lucky she is and how excited she should be. It isn’t a surprise that her father arranged such a union. The Malfoy heir is handsome, wealthy, respected, and his family lineage goes back nearly as far as her own.

Besides, she knew this would be her future from the time she was fourteen and had seen Lucius watching her during a garden party. Narcissa is not a fool, contrary to what many people assume. She has seen her eldest sister stricken from her family tapestry for daring to follow her heart, her cousin become dead to them all because he refused to do what he was told, and she knows she is merely attractive goods to be bartered and sold to the highest bidder. She is fortunate, indeed, that it was Lucius who made the best offer, whatever that had been, and not one of her father’s friends who looked at her with leering gazes and sinister smiles.

Lucius Malfoy is a very attractive man. He’s smart, cunning, and extremely charming. He will make a decent husband and she will never want for anything. She ignores the voice that whispers that he also seems to be cold and cruel, that he will never make her burn with passion or feel as if the world will end if he does not touch her. It will do no good to listen to those whispers so Narcissa pretends she does not hear them.

The wedding is set for late June, just a few weeks after she leaves Hogwarts, and Lucius expects a child within two years. When she received the ring, there were no declarations of love or even lust, no poetic words of desire and need. There was a contract with words they all thought she didn’t understand, an image she plays up because it’s far easier to maneuver through life if one is believed to be pretty and vapid versus beautiful and intelligent. The ring was slid onto her finger after she signed the last contract. Lucius had smiled smugly at acquiring such a pretty possession and she had lowered her gaze demurely so he’d not see her distaste at having been traded like some common House Elf.

She hates this ring but cannot remove it. Old magic keeps it on her finger even when she bathes, when she studies, when she sneaks into dark classrooms to meet the one who makes her feel alive and desperate. It will not be removed from her finger until the ceremony that will bind her to Lucius, then it will be moved to her other hand and, knowing the possessive man she is to marry, probably secured there, also. He does not seem to realize that a ring does not prevent another from having her if she chooses.

Dinner is nearly over and she can feel the weight of his gaze from across the Great Hall. She does not look at him and wonders why he is being so daringly obvious by staring. Her hand feels heavy as she raises her fork to her mouth, the candlelight catching the stone beautifully, and she finally looks up to meet his gaze. He looks away and whispers to one of his friends, the Potter boy that took him from her so many years ago.

Potter laughs and then goes back to eating. Sirius looks back at her and smirks, arching a dark brow in an unspoken invitation she knows all too well, and Narcissa quickly looks away before anyone realizes she’s been staring at her cousin. She brushes her hair away from her face, deliberately flashing her ring in Sirius’ direction, knowing that it will make him angry. When he’s angry, he’s rough and focused on making her beg. Only for Sirius will she ever beg.

Her nipples are hard beneath her robes and her knickers grow increasingly wet with anticipation of what awaits her this evening after her housemates are all asleep. The remainder of her meal feels as if it takes twice as long and she is fully aware that she is impatient. Sirius always teases her about her lack of patience when he has her tied up and is teasing her with his fingers or whatever else he brings with him. Fortunately, he doesn’t tease gently very often. They rarely have time for such elaborate games, after all. An hour, at most, before one or the other might be missed.

After they returned from winter holidays, though, he kept her for nearly three hours. Her body had been covered in bruises, bites, come, and sweat by the time he released her. Every time he had caught sight of her engagement ring, just newly placed on her finger, Sirius had bruised and marked her. He’d threatened to break her wand when she tried to conceal the marks and she’d been forced to sneak into her dorm covered in come and bruises. No one had seen her and she’d quickly removed the evidence of her indiscretion, but she’d not forgotten what he can be like when provoked.

Dinner is finally over and she dutifully retires to her dorm. No one would ever suspect that she is sitting beside the hearth in the common room thinking about the taste of her cousin and the way his hands grip her body until she bruises as he pounds into her. She is not a fan of pain at all under normal conditions but Sirius has made her crave it when they fuck.

Her cheeks flush with arousal as she whispers the word in her mind. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She can’t imagine her fiancÚ, cool and reserved Lucius Malfoy, ever saying such a filthy Muggle term, but it excites her when Sirius says it. It is what they do, after all. She does not waste time fooling herself into believing it is more than fucking between them. It is want and need: desperate and frantic at the worst of times, rough and teasing at the best. He does not like her or anything she represents and she resents him for choosing such a life for himself and knows in her heart that it will end badly for him. It not hate, though; not between them. It is something more and something infinitely less.

They were betrothed when they were children and it would be Sirius’ ring on her finger if he had made different choices upon arriving at Hogwarts. In Sirius’ mind, she is his regardless of rules and expectations. He sees the ring on her finger as a challenge to his position and marks her as his in ways that linger even after she is clean and magic has removed the bites and bruises. She knows she will never feel for her future husband what she feels for her cousin. One fingertip from Sirius’ hand brushing down the curve of her neck has her aroused whereas Lucius is like looking at a beautiful marble statue in a museum: she appreciates his beauty but he is cold and dispassionate.

When it is finally quiet in her dorm, everyone else asleep, she pulls on her cloak and leaves. Narcissa rubs her finger over the stone of her ring as she sneaks through the shadows to meet her cousin. They don’t have many more months before she will be finished with Hogwarts, before she leaves and marries Lucius like the dutiful daughter that she is, before she leaves Sirius and what they share behind. It’ll require courage to keep her attention on her future and not dwell on the past, but she knows it’s the only way she’ll be able to settle into her life as the Malfoy bride. However, knowing what awaits her has helped her decide that she’s going to enjoy every one of these stolen forbidden moments with Sirius while she can because there will be no looking back once she walks away.