One more day – finally, only one more day until I will be freed of this bloody albatross, until I can hold my head high, until I can look Mother in the eye again. One more day until the lies are over and the deception ended. Until I will wear the ring on my finger…and no one will dare question exactly when anything happened - because, tomorrow, I will become Mrs. Lucius Malfoy.

Grandmother would be horrified, of course. It might, in fact, literally kill her. She came in to say goodnight earlier and managed to plaster a smile under her cold eyes. She said she was so proud that I was making such a nice marriage after the mess with that other one, and that tomorrow all the waiting would be worth it, and I would certainly provide a nice heir to the Malfoy name. If only she knew! I would die before I would sass Grandmother to her face, but I think a few too many hours cross-stitching in the parlor may have prevented her from actually leaving the 1920s and joining the rest of us.

They need this, of course - grandmother and grandfather and mother and father and all the rest of them. The big wedding, the fancy party …all to show that, despite Sirius and Uncle Alphard and Andromeda, we are still the Blacks, and no one had best say a word otherwise.

“They must be so in love…� the papers had said, our friends had said, society had said, “…to be getting married so quickly.�

Love? I don’t know if I love him. I always thought I would – know, I mean…if I was in love. But, when a girl thinks of falling in love, she doesn’t exactly think of Lucius Malfoy. Lucius is…comfortable. He’s simple; he’s easy, he’s right. And despite what it seems, he’s not a complete brick. Sometimes, he brings me flowers. He remembers my birthday and Valentine’s Day. He smiles at Mum and Dad and assures them that he is treating me well. And he is.

But just one moment of something I wanted, something we wanted, something so terribly selfish – does that mean we are in love? Or does that just mean we are – were - indulgent? Perhaps if I was stronger, I could have waited. Many people have resisted many stronger temptations than one as common as the flesh. But I couldn’t. Or I didn’t. And I don’t regret it – not that itself. I wish it had turned out differently. I wish that the one time I did something I really wanted hadn’t become such a mess. But now, I suppose I know. There is nothing to be gained from egocentrism, nothing but the guilt that now rides over my thoughts.

Still, he treats me well. And, when it came down to the lie, he got down on one knee. For that, at least, I am grateful. But I can’t stop wondering, why? Of all the girls who would’ve given their right hand to be a Malfoy, why did he ask me? Is it because of what we’ve done? He could’ve walked away…I’ve seen many men walk away. Is it because I’m a Black, because there is nothing more right, not by nearly any standard, which he could have done? Or, is it truly because he loves me? He has done many things for me and said many things to me, but never those words. I don’t suppose he would understand – could understand – what they mean. I don’t expect him to know, but I wish he would. I can’t imagine I could be so bold as to say it first. I won’t even think it if I don’t know his feelings; I know to appreciate what we have. Why should I ask for more?

******

Thank Merlin there are charms to hide this. I never would’ve heard the end of it if Mother had had to get this dress altered on top of everything else. I will admit - it is beautiful. Even under the circumstances, I could tell Mother was itching for the spectacle of it all, especially after what happened with Andromeda. She slides the dress over my head and cannot hide her smile even as she shakes her head at me.

“Don’t get it dirty,� she says. But I know Mother, and I know this is just her way of telling me that she loves me.

I cannot stop running my fingers over the beading on my stomach - bumps and ridges, up and down. The dress is long, white, and full-skirted. The beading is small and detailed and was sewn by hand, even though it could’ve been done many times faster with magic. The veil belonged to grandmother; I feel dirty wearing it, like it knows I am a phony, nowhere near as pure as the smooth, white lace suggests. It casts a shadow over my face and at least I will be able to hide. I feel as if I will faint at the thought of actually showing my burning face in public. I am so embarrassed.

******

Even though Father hasn’t spoken to me for the past month, Mother says it was he who insisted that he would walk me down the aisle. I suppose I don’t doubt that. But the look on his face when he walked up beside me…it gave me chills. He had his arm wrapped through mine, and his face was stone-cold. I felt as though I was walking with a stranger. Father actually looks different, too… tired…old. He has been through a lot and I am awful to have put him through more. All that mess with Andromeda. All that mess with the war, for goodness’ sake. I am not naïve; I do not believe that Father is innocent. But, somewhere, underneath layers of time and anger and disappointment, he is still my Daddy. And I am happy that today, he stood by my side. Many girls would not have been so lucky.

The walk down the aisle is endless. Every step is so labored, it feels like there are weights on my feet, dragging me down, dragging me back. Mother looks back at me with a huge, fake smile on her face. I look down so I don’t have to meet her eyes. I cannot look at her.

I cannot look at Lucius.

He is doing right by me. He is a gentleman, and for the rest of my life, I will be in debt to him for that. I cannot believe he wanted to do this. Yet, he did. And today, we stand up there together.

******

Lucius’s eyes bore into me as I stand before him. I still do not dare to look up, to meet his gaze, but I can feel it. He sees me for who I am. Before him, I am exposed. And he stands here beside me anyways. The minister rambles on but I cannot hear him. All I can hear is Lucius’s gaze, whispering my lies so only we can hear. But he will keep my secret. Soon, it will be his secret, too.

“And do you, Narcissa Black, take Lucius Malfoy…?�

The words come out like vomit – they spill out quickly and forcibly, something I must do, something that will purify me. “I do.�

I had not realized I was holding my breath. But, with those two simple words, I feel my shoulders lift, a sigh fall off my lips and my head clear. I look up for the first time and as Lucius lifts the veil off my face, I am truly surprised to see his. He is smiling.

“I now declared you bonded for life.�

The hall bursts into applause, and Lucius takes my hand as we walk down the aisle. Mother is truly happy for the first time in a while. Bella looks less miserable than usual, and Father manages a quick nod my way. The music dances around my feet and I want to scream in joy. Finally, I am living again.

******

Seven months later, he arrives. He is beautiful.

“A honeymoon baby,� Mother says firmly, and we nod and laugh and smile. It is not fake – we are truly happy. He grabs at my fingers with his little fist and cries when I leave his side. He needs me to eat, to sleep, to calm him down.

When Lucius asked me to marry him, agreed to be a father to this son, I thought that that alone put me in his debt. His taking responsibility and standing by my side had bonded us, and I could not imagine ever repaying his honesty.

But now, I have my little Draco. And in comparison to this, that gratitude I had at the wedding is nothing. It is for this, right here, my little Draco…this is why I will forever be in my husband’s debt. This is why I have promised thus: I will be the perfect wife, the perfect Malfoy, the perfect Black. I will never be a burden or a trouble. I will stand by his side as truly as he has by mine. I will smile when he smiles and curse those he curses. If he wants to serve a Master, I will look the other way.

I do look the other way. I look at my boy.

His eyes and hair are Lucius’s. His nose and chin are mine. But his heart is his own. I love his heart - so pure, as yet unstained.

I love him. I cannot believe I ever resented him. And I cannot believe he is mine.

Lucius squeezes my hand and pushes a strand of hair out of my face. Together, we look down at our little boy. I feel happy.

I think we are a family.