ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Epilogue 3 : Lucius and Narcissa, February 1981

Draco was eight months old. So tiny and fussy child, crying all the time, calming down only in Narcissa's hands, and when his small, wrinkled face smoothed out, she stroked his cheeks for an infinitely long time, sometimes crying from happiness.

Lucius kept saying she would spoil the kid, but he did not have time to take part in the upbringing of his son, working all the time, in the Ministry, then at the Lord's, so Narcissa took solace in her son. Only little Draco existed for her, he helped her forget that the world is on the verge of war, and her husband bears the brunt as the right hand of the Lord.

Their wedding was as it should be: magnificent, luxurious, grand. The slender rows of snow-white chairs with pillows near the wedding arch, entwined with daffodils. Round tables, covered with tablecloths, served with napkins for 5 galleons each, with silverware and bone china service. The servants carried drinks and dishes, and the little house-elves, in order not to insult the gentlemen with their image, worked in the kitchen.

Narcissa smiled modestly, adjusting the hem of her pale pink dress, accepted congratulations. She liked the attention, after all the wedding is an event when all attention is given only to the bride.

Lucius was more reserved. He looked exhausted, but his endurance did not let him down even now. He politely talked to the guests, he knew by name all of them, even though the guest list was made by Walburga.

At first, Narcissa's heart was pounding wildly when the house-elves and maids dressed her up for the wedding but calmed down completely, looking in the mirror. She was inimitable and beautiful from all sides, like a marzipan statuette carefully created by skillful hands. She had a frighteningly high hairstyle that looked like a clot of cream, covered with sweets sparkling in the sun, and only Narcissa knew how many gels, hairpins, pins, ribbons and spells now squeezed her head. But still, it was a pleasant feeling.

When Narcissa was taken out of Malfoy Manor, all eyes turned to her. Delighted, envious, lustful, greedy, proud, happy, hating ones. The entire world belonged to her today.

The sun blinded her eyes. A little girl in a white dress supported the hem of Narcissa's dress, marching behind her at a respectful distance, and the blonde could not remember what family this little one was from.

Then her father led her by the hand to the altar, and her mother proudly looked around the guests.

Lucius stood at the arch with a smile glued to his face, next to him was his best man, Anthony Mulciber, and three bridesmaids on the right. All of them chosen by Walburga. But Narcissa did not care who would stand with her at that moment. After all, they weren't the one to marry Lucius; she was.

Narcissa's heart faltered only once. Not during the ceremony. Saying "I do" was easy, for this she was prepared since childhood. It trembled when, after a solemn kiss holding the marriage together, Narcissa turned to the guests, sparkling with happy eyes and saw the handsome young man in a black suit behind all.

The Dark Lord.

He looked into her eyes with a smile, and Narcissa trembled in terror from the threat emanating from him. The guests froze, even Walburga forgot how to breathe. With a light step, the Lord passed between the rows straight to the arch, leaned toward Narcissa's hand, which she even forgot to stretch out of fear, and breathed, "Congratulations to you, Narcissa. Congratulations to all three."

He uttered the last words in almost a whisper.

When Narcissa finally regained self-possession and put on the most charming of her smiles, the Lord straightened up. He nodded to Lucius, apologized for the rush without regret, and promptly left the festival. No one except Narcissa had heard the last words of Voldemort. But her anxious, incredulous look and the trembling of the hands Narcissa wanted to touch her stomach with gave her away before those who knew how to see. Lucius twitched, squinting at Narcissa, and something incomprehensible, happy, and frightened flashed inside him. Walburga just snorted, paralyzing her daughter-in-law with a look. Druella watched disapprovingly, but now there was no point in following the formalities and blaming her daughter for having premature sex with her now husband. Narcissa was so busy thinking about a new thought, that she completely forgot about the Lord and about the wedding. Something was changing in her body at this moment...