Apollo

For Narcissa, the common and mundane has never been good enough. She will settle for nothing less than a god, for she is nothing less than a goddess.

I.
Statue

You recline across the leather couch. It does not matter that no one else can sit with you. You prefer it that way, really. The fire turns the green draperies the colour of drying blood. A green light hangs above you and turns your hair the colour of emeralds.

“Move over.�

“No.�

Impertinent boy you think.

He runs a hand through his wavy, golden locks. He thinks he’s so pretty. I hate to tell him he isn’t special.

“Very well.�

He picks up your legs and plops down beside you. Several girls across the room whisper and stare at the two of you. You think they are jealous because you know it is common knowledge that every witch with a pulse would like to kiss Adam Venturini. You are no exception – not really – but it happens to be that you know him a bit better than most of the silly, little witches.

“Adam, that was rude.�

Your voice is calm – perfectly cool you think – when you respond. You are always in control, and this grinning fool of a wizard cannot change that fact. He stretches out and plops an arm on your shoulder. You snort and brush it off.
“My, you like a show,� you tell Adam. He shrugs and props his feet up on the black, marble coffee table in front of you. “You might start acting like a pureblood. Really, Adam, we’ve been here five years, and you still are the oddest boy.�

He only shrugs. You expect nothing more of him really. He is Adam Venturini, after all, and anyone worth their blood can do exactly as they like. You know this full well. You certainly do whatever you please, and Adam is of the same nature. This is why you consider him a friend. When the two of you were sorted into Slytherin the same year, you immediately took a liking to the blonde boy. You heard he was the son of an Italian Count – a wizard with a very prestigious pedigree – and Allegra Greengrass. Bella confirmed the rumours for you.

‘I’m Narcissa Black,’ you told him during your first meal at the Slytherin table. You sat by Bella, and two of the new Slytherins, Adam and Marcus Malfoy, sat across from you.

‘I’m Adam Venturini. Pleased to meet you.’
You think back on that simple moment. You learned his name.

I would have heard it even if I had kept my mouth shut and never spoken to him you think as you appraise the boy sitting next to you. You cannot ignore his presence. He is still grinning at you. You feel the eyes of the others in the room drawn to the pair of you.

And why not? you think. You are both beautiful in a way no one else is. You appraise Adam from the corner of your eye. You think he looks a bit like a statue you saw once. A man – no a god – made of gold is wielding a sword. You think Adam’s hair looks like the same colour as the statue. You imagine that, under his robes, his skin is the same golden colour as it is on his face.
His brown eyes turn to you.

He is a god among men you think as you slowly turn your head to face him. You raise your eyebrows and give him a withering stare. God or not, he cannot expect to sit around and behave badly in your presence.
He removes his feet from the table. A smile spreads slowly across your face.

You lean into his ear. “Better.�

He laughs. An odd sensation fills your chest. He has a nice voice you think. You run two fingers down his arm and over the back of his hand. He continues to smirk at you, as if waiting for something. He knows – oh he does – that he cannot make the first move.

You take his hand and raise it to your head and twine your hair in his fingers. He continues to stare at you – just waiting – for the moment when it is okay for him to move. You let him wait.

He continues to smile at you. He is like the sun. A sun god you decide as you pull his face towards yours. You wonder – but just for a moment – if it is okay to kiss your friend. He is your friend.

But then, who wants to be just friends with a god?

II.
Goddess


You stare at the ceiling and follow the sunlight down until it hits your hands. In the light, you feel they appear pale – somehow too white – but still dainty. You turn your gaze to Adam, who sits beside you at the Slytherin table. Unlike you, the sun strikes his skin and seems to turn it to gold. The light gleams of his hair like off a warrior’s shield.

“No House colours today?� you ask Adam. “It’s our first game. Come now, where is your school spirit?�

He does not reply. What is his problem? Why doesn’t he look at me?

You pause and think it might be true. The two of you are not really together – not in that way – but you both act the part. You think of the nasty rumours and stare at your sun god. They tell me he likes men you think. They are scandalous, silly thoughts, but you entertain them – just a little.

“Adam?�

He finally turns to look at you. You tap your fingers against the table. You wait for him to speak. You never wait, but for Adam, you will wait.

“I’m not going,� he says. Your fingers stop moving, your eyebrows arch, and you lean over to him.

“Not going? It’s the Gryffindor –Slytherin match. Who is not going?�

You have raised your voice – unladylike – by accident, and the people around you have noticed. You look up at Marcus, attired in his Quidditch uniform. He would be captain if he wasn’t so damned shy you think as you meet his grey eyes.

The rest of the team is seated around you. They are popular, and by proxy, you must be with them. You can feel their eyes on you and Adam. Adam must notice you think. He will change his mind now.

“I told you, I am not going. I don’t care for the sport.�
“Odd development of yours.�

Your remark carries. They listen to you speak, and you usually enjoy the attention – never now – but you want to fight with Adam. You want to be every bit a brute and shout at him. You do not know why his refusal upsets you. It is a silly game you tell yourself, but that does not make everyone stop staring or take your anger away.
“You should come,� Marcus says in that soft, whisper of a voice you think does not fit his burly frame.

You know Marcus never talks. Adam insulted him you think. You know Marcus is the best beater in the school, and you think Adam and Marcus are friends.

Only friends?

You banish those filthy thoughts. You turn your gaze between Adam and Marcus. There are no words between them. The two simply stare at each other, and your gut knots up.

Just friends?

Marcus rises from the table, and when he meets your gaze, you follow his lead. Now, others stand. When Marcus and you being to walk out of the hall, most of Slytherin follows in your wake. At the threshold of the hall, you meet Marcus. You lightly rest a hand on his arm.
He looks down at you. You know it is not a look of love, but he accepts your touch. Who doesn’t want me? you wonder as your head turns back – as if on its own – to look at Adam. He sits alone now, but he does not look up at any of you.

All alone, with the sun hitting his hair, he seems lovelier than ever. For a moment, you are afraid everyone will see how he glitters and glows and turn back to him. You fear they may leave you, a lovely flower, for Adam, who is made of gold.

III.
Achilles

You take a sip of white wine and sweep your eyes over the banquet hall decorated in silver, black, and white. You think it perfect. These are the colours of your wedding, and your bridesmaids will wear silver and the groomsmen will wear black. You – like a proper bride – will wear white.

And Lucius. He will wear white, too you remind yourself. But not tonight. Tonight, you are the only one attired in a silver, strapless evening gown. Tonight, you are the star dazzling the entire room.

Over the top of your wine glass, you see him walking towards you. In the sky of black, he is a golden star. He looks every bit like that statue now that he is dressed in a golden robe. You know he has not spotted you yet, and you take the moment to watch him move through the crowd.

He is a god among men.

His eyes find you, the lone silver star in the sea of black and white. He cuts his way through the shimmering masses to arrive by your side. For a moment, you simply stare at him.

“I did not think you would come.�

“I considered it, but I thought better of it. We were friends, were we not? Friends should attend each other’s engagement parties.�

You nod. “We are friends, are we not?�

He smiles, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. You wonder if anyone else notices how he glows. He reaches for your neck. You consider pulling away – just for a moment – but you let him touch you. You let him run his fingers over the diamonds. You can feel the warmth of his hands through the cold metal.

“Is that an engagement gift? I would hate to be the man who had to out due that when you want him to prove his love to you.�

Adam withdraws his hand, and your breathing becomes easier now that he is not touching you. You finger the necklace of diamond flowers. “They are Narcissus flowers,� you tell him, even though you suspect he might already know this. “They match the ring.�

You hold out your hand. The engagement ring is a flower with one, bright canary diamond in the middle. Adam laughs, and you feel that odd, warm feeling in your chest again.

“Did he have to rob Gringotts to get that?� Adam asks. You frown at him. Always the impertinent one you think as you remove your hand to hide the diamond from him again.

“I heard you were a Healer now.� You know it is small talk, but it distracts Adam – just like you planned – from talking about your wedding or burning your insides with his laugh.

“Yes, I have my own Ward,� he tells you, and a smile dawns on his face. “I love it, really, although I didn’t know if I would.�

“You should have been a soldier.�

It comes out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Adam cocks his head and raises his eyebrows. He wonders what I mean you think as you try to dig for an explanation. You can only he think that he reminds you of a god who happened to be holding a sword. He reminds you of a statue – how silly – that you saw when you were a small girl. You cannot say you always pictured him with that shimmering sword in his bronze hands.

“Narcissa. Adam.�

You turn around as the cool voice address you. Lucius takes your arm in his before you have a chance to do anything. Even in the throng of people, Lucius feels so cold to you, but he protects you from Adam’s heat. You smile up at your fiancé.

“We were just having a little chat,� you tell Lucius in a velvet voice. “He’s a Healer now.�

“My family has made many donations to Saint Mungo’s Hospital,� Lucius speaks, and you think his voice sounds like ice clinking in a glass. You look down at Lucius’s silver robe that matches your gown perfectly. You are two glittering stars tonight.

“I do know that,� Adam says. You think Adam’s voice sounds like waves upon a warm, sandy shore. You do not know why Adam reminds you of this, but maybe it is because he gives that odd, warm feeling in your chest when he laughs, which feels like a painful sunburn. You always did burn easily. You never liked the beach.

“A glass of wine?� you ask Adam. He nods. You excuse yourself and leave him speaking to Lucius. You take two glasses from the table and turn to approach the pair.

You gaze at Lucius, sparkling – just like you – in his silver robe. Lucius is a soldier you think as you stare at his silvery white hair. Yes, he is no Healer. Lucius is my soldier. You think of him as a great warrior, and together, Adam and Lucius look like two statues – one silver and one gold. He will be a great hero you think as you smile at Lucius, but he turns and meets your gaze as you had him his glass, which is as cool as the pleased smile upon his face.

Lucius is a great warrior.

But you know he is not sun god.

IV.
Warriors

The rain pounds against your back. You risked Apparating, even though several of you are injured. No one is speaking, and they follow you now. You rip off your mask and run up to the door. You pound your fist against the wood, and finally, the door cracks open.

“Narcissa? What – �

You fling your arms inside, and you shove open the door. “Get inside!� you snap to the others. Marcus and Rosier come first, carrying Lucius between them. You look away from his bloody face. Rodolphus supports Bella, and when the pair enters, you see the dazed look upon your barely conscious sister’s face.

Rabastan comes next, supported by a limping Gibbon and Crouch. You make sure the last three are inside before slamming the door behind you. “They can’t come here! Narcissa, what the hell?�

“We can’t go to Saint Mungo’s! None of us can fix injuries this extensive! Help us, and we’ll be gone.�

Adam stares around the room. He curses and then motions everyone into the living room of his flat. “Put Bellatrix on the couch,� Adam snaps. “There are two bedrooms. Take the other two there, and I’ll deal with them first.�

Adam and the six others disappear. You stand still – dripping water – the mask still clutched in one hand. You stare at Rodolphus, who is trying to bring Bella to her senses. You know she was stunned several times, and she grips onto consciousness by a bare thread.

Damned price of war. We had no idea you think as you walk into Adam’s kitchen. You peer into the cabinets until you discover the liquor. You plop some ice in a glass and pour the whisky over it. You down the first glass quickly and pour yourself another.

“Don’t keep it all to yourself.�

You spin around to see Marcus standing behind you. With his thick, blond beard and long, unruly hair, he looks better fit to be a lumberjack in some distant woods. You look at him for a moment, hoping he will say what weighs on your mind.

Is Lucius okay? Damn it, Marcus, tell me.

You pour him a glass of whisky anyway. He downs it and hands the glass back to you. You fill it again, and this time, he only sips it. “I need another,� Marcus says. You know this is for Lucius, and it lets you know he is alive.

Marcus would only ask for it to give it to Lucius. You pour another glass, give it to Marcus, and he strides back towards the bedroom. You hear a shout, and you flinch.

This is not what I want you think as you cross your arms and stare at your distorted reflection on the surface of a kettle sitting on the stove. Your face rounds out – too large – and you appear more like drowned body than a proper lady. You pull your wet hair, which hangs down – long and limp – out of your face.

You take your drink and walk into the living room. Rodolphus struggles to keep Bella awake, but you do not feel you can help him.

You hear another scream, but even though it makes you clench your teeth, you do not flinch. You never flinch in front of Bella, even in her current state.

“Hold him down! I need to fix the ankle!�

“Damn it! Bloody hell!�

It is Lucius that shouts. Your knuckles turn white as you clutch the glass in your fist. There is more noise – shouting and whimpers of pain – before the apartment falls silent again. You hear the rain pounding against the glass panes, and you turn your head to stare out into the darkness. You can see a street light out one window that illuminates a patch of pavement.

“We need to wake him up. I need to see if anything else is wrong.�

You turn your head away from the window. Adam is speaking again. You hear a yelp of pain.

Lucius.

He screams again, and your insides begin to crawl around like snakes confined in a pit. Lucius continues to moan in pain. You have never heard him in pain. He is your warrior, your strong soldier, and he is nearly invincible. He is clever. He knows when to fight.

But tonight, none of us were quick enough. Where did they come from? How did they know where we would be?

The questions linger in your mind as Adam strides into the room. Even at this hour, after you have woken him in the darkest pit of night, he still appears like that statue. You have not seen him for – how long? He looks untouched by age, war, and the miseries that pile around you.

“Hold her up,� Adam commands Rodolphus as he takes a seat by Bella. He points his wand at her. He works for a moment, and soon, Bella’s eyes snap open. She is no more than stunned you realize.

When he is satisfied, Adam stands up. He motions you into the kitchen.

“What is this about? I could lose my job – get arrested – if the lot of you are found here.� Adam keeps his voice low, but you see the smoldering anger – true annoyance – in those brown eyes. You stare at him for a moment, unused to seeing him upset. He always was in control you think. That’s why I couldn’t stand him. He was always in control.

“We were ambushed. We were sent to kill some important Ministry official,� your voice does not rise above a whisper. “Someone knew we were coming. I don’t know how, but they knew. They weren’t Aurors. We’re not sure who sent them. We heard rumours Dumbledore had rounded up a militia, but no one thought it was true.�

You finish speaking, and Adam is staring down at you. You do not know what he is thinking, but his brow is knit as he continues to gaze upon you. Your skin warms as if you have stepped outdoors after staying inside the cool of a house.

This is not the time you tell yourself. You hate your reaction to this man. You cross your arms – trying to be angry – waiting for Adam to say something. Finally, he says, “You were lucky, I suppose. I’ll go check on the ones in the bedroom. If they are in fit enough shape to Apparate, you should all leave.�

Adam strides away. You watch his back retreat down the hallway. You scowl and set your glass down upon the counter.

You look up as you hear footsteps coming from the bedroom. Rabastan is still supported by two people, and although he is pale, he seems fine. Marcus supports Lucius, who still appears stunned and confused.

“The Dark Lord will reward you,� Bella says – still a bit groggy – to Adam as she and Rodolphus come into the now crowded kitchen. “You have done his followers a great service.�

“Indeed,� Adam says in a terse voice. “Don’t tell anyone you were here. And get out.�

“You should join us. We could use a Healer,� Rosier tells Adam.

“The Dark Lord will value you,� Bella says, and you hear the longing in her voice. You know it is not Adam she hopes the Dark Lord will truly want.

“I will pass on the offer,� Adam says in a clipped voice. “Besides, the Dark Lord already has all of you in his service. Why would he need me?�

Adam looks at you when he says this. You know he has judged you. You know he thinks you are a fool for taking sides like this. You would not know what to do if you did not join them, though. You do not know how Adam manages. You need to be among warriors. You are not a god. You cannot live in your own light. You are only a flower, and you seek the sun.

“We will be going.� Your command is more for the others, but you look up at Adam as you head for the door.

You wonder – only for a moment – if a flower does not belong among warriors.

V.
Sun God

You lie back in the bed with your hair spread out around your head and recline against the plush pillows. You look out the window, which allows you the full view of the grounds, to see the setting sun. You watch the peacocks, which now appear as red as phoenixes, striding across the lawn. You are alone with only the small baby in your arms, but you do not begrudge anyone for this fact. You know Lucius and Bella stand in your place, and you are proud of your warriors.

Draco cries, and you shift his position in your arms. You stare down at this extension of your flesh and blood. Yet, you know he is not all yours, but you hope he is mostly yours. You want him to be yours. You touch your finger to his nose, cooing to him in odd babbles that you do not want to admit come from your mouth.

The door flings open. You lunge for the wand on your nightstand. Draco wails.

“What the hell?� you snap.

Marcus strides into the room, and Adam follows him. You drop your wand and begin to silence your crying son. You rock him – back and forth – to settle his cries. You do not look up at the two men until Draco seems appeased.

Adam stands on your side of the bed, wearing his lime green Healer robe, and in the light of the setting sun, you can see the deep frown upon his face, but what you notice most is the frantic look in his eyes.

“What happened?� you ask.

“I need to get out of the country.�

Your gaze shifts to Marcus, standing silently by the door. You do not know why he has brought Adam to you. You suspect he has not been completely loyal, but you cannot prove it. Lucius will not hear you utter a word against Marcus – his baby brother – but you still suspect him. You know that, if your own flesh and blood can betray you, it can happen to any pureblood family.

“Adam, what you have you done?�

He does not reply at first. You wait until, in a soft voice, he speaks. “I killed a boy. By accident. I was trying to heal him . . . he got out of control. I had to do it, but they won’t understand. I’ll go to Azkaban for it.�

“What am I supposed to do?�

You already know what you will do, but you want him to beg you for it. “I told you, I need out of the country. Consider this payment for that time you barged in on me.�

You sit up and pull your silken green house coat around you. You pull Draco against your body with one arm as you pick up your wand with the other hand. “Marcus, you can be gone now,� you command as you motion Adam to follow you.

What you seek is in the attic. You ascend the rickety, wooden staircase, and you pull Draco close to your body. You hope he does not get a chill, but he is not crying. He is such a good, brave boy you think as you lean your head down to kiss his brow.

“I heard you had a baby boy,� Adam says from behind you.

“You can see that I did,� you reply as you unlock the hatch and open the door in the ceiling. You walk over to the tall, unadorned wardrobe stuffed in one corner of the attic. You give it a tap and swing the door open. The chill air that blasts out of it is not from this attic, and you step away from the opening so Adam can see into it.

“This takes you to the basement of our summer house in Vichy, France,� you explain to Adam. He nods, but does not enter into the portal.

In the rays of the setting sun, you think his golden hair seems to turn to blood. You think – more now than ever – he seems cast in gold. Because he is so still and solemn, you think he looks every inch like a golden statue. You do not try and picture him with a sword anymore, but you think – just this once – that a weapon might fit him now.

“Don’t tell anyone you were here,� you tell Adam. These words do not even bring a grin to his face. Then, you watch him step through the door. The cool air swishes after him, and you shut the door when he is gone.

He tried so hard you think as you look down at Draco. For a moment, you entertain the foolish thought of having Adam’s child, but that idea slides quickly out of your mind as you stare into Draco’s steely grey eyes.

Draco is a warrior like his father. You hope – just maybe – that Draco will more like you. You want to see him shimmer and shine. You know this child – your son – is too good to simply be another star in the sky. You want this child to be more than a warrior. He does not need to wield a sword to be great.

You kiss Draco’s forehead.

You want him to be a god.

Like Adam. A sun god.