Narcissa & Lucius || We'll Always Have Detention
If only Narcissa had a record player handy to make time go by faster. She longed for a tune to provide distraction from the mundane task of cleaning cauldrons. Ugh, the grime and the smell, she couldnât stand it anymore. For merlinâs sake, the smell was completely unexpected. It was ghastly. She pouted while rolling the one in her hands, since it was too heavy for her to carry into the cabinet for storage. Before this horrendous experience, she had never considered lacking in physical strength to be an impediment. Why did wizards need to use such large cauldrons, anyway?
As Narcissa scrubbed number twenty-three, she wondered what Lucius had revealed about the stunt that landed her in detention. She imagined any other professor wouldâve treated her like a misfit for cursing someone on the first day of school. In fact Narcissa had woken up dreading Slughornâs lecture on her behavior, but so far, there hadnât been so much as a harsh word out of him. For the most part, the professor appeared to be at complete ease with her. At this very minute Slughorn was probably off in his cozy office, reading a book while enjoying a slice of pineapple. Thatâs what Narcissa imagined anyway, it wasnât like she had asked where he was going when he left the classroom. Sheâd been on her own for at least two hours by now. Maybe being engaged to a Prefect wouldnât be such a bad thing, Narcissa shrugged and continued to scrub the rim of the cauldron.Â
Slughorn had been explicit when he instructed her to not use magical means to clean anything. He also assured her that heâd be checking her wand after to insure that she hadnât cheated. It was in her best interest to obey him since she did value their circle of trust. Plus she couldnât bear having to suffer through more days of detention if he so deemed necessary. In her opinion, detention was an utter waste of time. It wasnât as if wizards were ever handed detentions in the ârealâ world, she rolled her eyes at the thought. Coming from riches and spoils, Narcissa had seen plenty of authority figures paid off by her parents and mutual friends. Crime and punishment was a mirage for the elite, well, not counting parent/child relationships. There werenât laws against punishing your own children, at least none that she knew of.
While humming the beat of Pink Floydâs âMoneyâ, Narcissa removed her goggles and gloves for a second to re-do her hair. Her nose crinkled while inspecting a few stray strands, she so desperately needed a long bath after this ordeal. She couldnât bear smelling like whatever was stuck to the cauldrons, she preferred not to know the details- it was better to keep her sanity. She exhaled sadly and grabbed the polishing balm to finish up the cauldron. Hypothetically speaking, she couldâve schemed a way out of doing the rest of the work. It would be simple really. All she had to do was invite Regulus over and ask him to enchant the cauldrons. He wasnât a fan of rules and understood the boredom of saving face. And he totally wouldâve done it for a guaranteed favor in return since that was their nature. She mused doubting that Slughorn would recall the loophole in his instructions. Her professor wasnât that clever. Maybe her scheme would be an option for the next day, as she considered the mercy of her cousin with a smirk.
When Lucius Malfoy unexpectedly opened the classroom door and sauntered in, Narcissa nearly dropped the cauldron in her hands. Needless to say, she was stunned to see him. She hadnât expected him to check on her. Did he not have a better way to spend his Sunday evening? Could he be anymore boring? Didnât he trust her that sheâd do her duty? And oh Merlin, she looked worse than a house elf with messy hair, goggles over her eyes, and outrageous gloves on her hands! She would have burst into tears at that moment, but she didnât want to make her appearance any worse.
It wasn't as if manipulation of staff was beneath Lucius Malfoy.  In fact, he'd always lived by the assumption that the more he was able to sway figures of authority, the better.  So long as he kept face and his typically selfish motives remained hidden, who would he be to turn down an opportunity for personal gain when the only price was a bit of smooth talk and schmoozing?  Narcissa Black's punishment was no exception.  Had it been any other two students involved in the event he likely would have reported the incident directly to the Headmaster, earning favour in the lunatic's eyes for his quick enforcement of the rules.  Narcissa and James, however, were in a league of their own.  His tentative fiancee cursing the Head Boy, whom Lucius himself held an eternal distaste for, was certainly cause for an exception, was it not?  He held the opportunity to shine in the eyes of his future wife, all while relishing in the fact that James Potter's attacker was getting away as close to scathe-free as possible.  Every way Lucius looked at it, he won.
Sliding Narcissa's deed past authority had been much easier than the Slytherin had anticipated. Â If there was one thing Lucius appreciated about his Head of House, aside from his notorious dimness, it was the fact that he'd earned a position in the man's esteem long ago. Â All it had taken to get Narcissa her minimum sentence was a few choice words outlining to Slughorn that a member of his house appeared to be having trouble adjusting to their return to the castle and had acted out as a result. Â That, along with a strong suggestion that a minimal punishment would ease said student's apparent anxiety, had all sat too well with the old Slytherin head, who'd nodded enthusiastically along with every word that slithered off of Lucius's tongue.
Of course his motives had been selfish, but why wouldn't they be? Â The opportunity was far too convenient for him to allow it to slide by. Â He'd already saved her once, gotten her off far easier than any other Prefect or Professor would have, and yet with such a simple-minded detention he was almost positive he'd have the chance to play knight in shining armour once more, perhaps even thaw a layer of the ice that surrounded the youngest Black daughter. Â Lucius had been almost certain that Professor Slughorn wouldn't take it upon himself to supervise the girl. Â The man appeared to put far too much trust in people, specifically those with promise - pureblooded Slytherins had as good as a free pass with the man, and with Narcissa's lineage on her side Lucius would've bet his best galleons that Slughorn would be curled up safely in his office rather than scrutinizing Narcissa's manual labour. Â As he strolled out of the Slytherin common room and through the dungeons, past Slughorn's office, he proved himself right; a quick glance into the man's office showed Lucius all he needed to see - that his Head of House was curled up comfortably in his chair, with his nose just above a glass whose contents he didn't dare fathom any guesses about, rather than pacing back and forth in the potions classroom like any responsible supervisor would.
If there had ever been a time to strike, it was then.
Lucius surely didn't feel the need to prove himself to Narcissa Black. Â If she wasn't aware of his nobility and desirable traits by that point, she had to have spent the past sixteen years of her life oblivious to her family's social circles. Â No, his feet weren't carrying him towards the potions classroom because he felt compelled to reiterate his worth. Â Instead, he was driven by the will to surprise her, to break her shell, perhaps even to help her if he felt horribly inclined. Â With the rest of their lives as good as dictated for them it appeared the reasonable thing to do.
He pushed the door open forcefully, taking strong steps into the room, making his presence immediately known. Â Momentary fright graced the girl's delicate features as he nodded towards her in greeting, quickly striding across the stone floors towards her. Â "Evening," he hummed, attempting to repress a smirk as he examined the startle across her face and the wideness of her eyes, though his lips still instinctively began to curl at the sides. Â His eyes slowly scanned the classroom as he paused just feet away from her, darting between the girl and the two piles of cauldrons - one dirty and one clean. Â "I felt it safe to assume that our Head of House wouldn't exactly be attentive in regards to your supervision," he began carefully. Â "It only seemed natural that, being the one to issue your punishment in the first place, I paid you a visit to check in. Â Have your fingers begun to prune yet?" His smirk began to expand as his eyes flickered back to Narcissa.
