forever-toujourspur:
afternoon tea with a side of inquisition / narcissa & daisy / august 28, 1980
Narcissa resisted the urge to gape across the table at her unwanted guest. She should have known that the intricacies and benefits of knowing everyone’s business, whether gossip or truth, would have been lost on the girl in front of her. After all, that was how Narcissa was taught to think - knowledge is power, and power can be leveraged to get what you want. Her mother had ingrained that lesson in her well, in subtle smiles and dagger-like glares, in keen ears and an even keener head. Druella’s own philosophy, nearly mirrored in her daughter but not quite, was ‘why have friends and confidences when you could have sources?’ In that same way, her whole childhood, Narcissa had been warned against anyone who might want to use her for her position, for her family’s name and power. Any mistake could have been tantamount to ruin. Narcissa should have known that Daisy wouldn’t have had the same *perspective*.
A smirk gently twisted up the corners of her lips. “Your naïveté betrays your youth,” she murmured quietly. “No matter,” she brushed the matter aside, “it should hardly matter for someone such as yourself. After all, it is not likely you will ever enjoy a prominent enough position to benefit from those relationships.” For not the first time, Narcissa was reminded of how *different* she was from other people, how her own pedigree and education had shaped her life - largely for the better. She, her family, even Purebloods in general, were meant for something *better*, something more meaningful, something not afforded to common Wizardkind and Mudbloods. Glancing over at Draco, Narcissa smiled down at him. That was the future she wanted to give her son, one where his pedigree and potential would be honored over those less than worthy.
When Daisy spoke of her parenting, Narcissa stiffened. Of course, she had not said anything explicitly against her, but a barb was still a barb. “We are not most parents.” Daisy went on and on… and on. Narcissa began to wonder if she ever shut up. Soon, she lost the original point that Daisy had been trying to make and decided not to press it further. Admittedly, Narcissa was tiring of Daisy’s presence and the usually long fuse of her temper was running short, between lack of sleep, constant worry, and the knowledge that this evening would see only a few hours of sleep once more. She sighed quietly, resolving to sit inside from now on - where unwanted company may be screened at the door.
This resolution, of course, only lasted until her request for Daisy to leave was willfully ignored and an elaborate lie constructed to remain. Left with two options - leave or stand her ground - Narcissa narrowed her eyes across the table at the girl. “Yes, you might injure your ankle further. What a pity that would be.” Her voice dripped sarcasm in an uncharacteristically unsubtle way. For the smallest of moments, Narcissa considering conjuring ropes to tie her to the chair - at least that way, she would get the rest she so desperately wanted. “Though with so many other chairs available to you, I have to wonder why you chose mine. What you may be hoping to gain…” Narcissa let herself trail off, goading the girl into her next response.
Of course Narcissa didn’t buy the bit about her ankle- Daisy hadn’t expected her to and frankly would have been quite disappointed if she had. Regardless, she decided to act as though she hadn’t heard the sarcasm dripping from the older woman’s words, and shook her head dejectedly. “I know,” she agreed with a very loud and exaggerated sigh. “It would truly be awful. Imagine the papers reporting on it- New mother Mrs Malfoy sends teenager limping away! I wouldn’t dare harm your reputation by hobbling off until I’ve had a few moments to recover,” she added with a sugary-sweet smile.
Daisy blinked at the pointed question, slightly surprised by Narcissa’s directness. Thinking quickly, she plastered a grin across her face. “Well, because I just had to admire your new baby of course! He’s so cute!” This said without so much as a glance at the sleeping infant. Daisy would never understand the appeal; they literally looked like old potatoes. “And of course, for the conversation,” this with a slight smirk. “I mean, you’re so knowledgeable on current events, clearly. I would just love to hear your opinion on everything going on lately. Like- oh my god, didn’t a vampire kill someone recently? Or was it a werewolf? I can’t remember,” she admitted with a shrug.
“You must know all the details, though,” she continued pointedly. Why bother trying to be subtle? She’d never been able to manage it no matter how hard she’d tried. “Since you’re so in the know. With your obsession with reading the papers, and everything. Do you think Death Eaters were involved?” Daisy propped an elbow on the table and leaned forward, wide-eyed, the picture of inquisitiveness. “I would love to hear your take on things. Since you’re soo knowledgeable.”



















