Narcissaâs strength had never been up for debate. Even now Emma could still remember the envious manner in which sheâd carried herself throughout Hogwarts: poised and beautiful, and befitting of a crown, with an easy grace to her every look and gesture that simply couldnât be self-taught (oh, sheâd be lying if she said she hadnât tried). Steel framed in porcelain that refused to crack. But even perfection came at a price, and with everything thatâd transpired since Voldemort had taken the helm, it was safe to say her old friend had paid a steeper one than most.
Yet pity was not a color Slytherins wore well, and it was with this in mind that she kept all traces of it from her expression as she smiled warmly instead, âThatâs good to hear. It goes without saying, but if you ever need anything⊠well, you know where to find me.â Her lips thinned at the mention of the pamphlets. âOh, trust me, I saw. They plastered the damn things all over the Alleyââ to admit sheâd been tasked with tearing them down sounded much too demeaning, and so⊠ââtook the guards half the morning to clear them out. And I expect youâre on the mark there. People are fickle; theyâll move on to the next shiny bauble soon enough.â
It was funny how easily the years could come rushing back. She might have faked it till she made it all her life, but it was in the presence of people like Narcissa that Emma was sorely reminded of what she lacked. The pedigree, the posh upbringing⊠all the things she thought sheâd remedied with her sterling quidditch career. That she would never be quite on their level was a thought thatâd been lost amongst the chorus of cheers surrounding her name and the lofty heights of flashy stardom, because at the very least she was still someone. Without that reputation to fall back on, she could feel the slight strain now beginning to tug at her smile, once again mindful of the differences thatâd bolstered both her resentment and admiration for Narcissa so long ago.
She couldnât tell her friend that she felt infinitely more at home in this dusty old shop than she ever had at pureblood parties, and she certainly couldnât tell her the real reason sheâd hung up her broomstick and settled for obscurity. It might have been a while since theyâd seen each other last, and change had certainly encompassed their lives since, but she somehow still felt inferior. Still only half the person Narcissa was. âHavenât had much of a choice,â she answered with a half-sigh. âThe Leagueâs been having cutbacks. Youâd be surprised how many muggleborns and half-bloods theyâd let slip in through the cracks. Take out the trash, though, and youâll find thereâs not much left in the way of actual teams.â Emma gestured emptily at their surroundings. âThis is pretty much all Iâve got at the moment, least until they figure themselves out again. Had you put in an order for something?â
The fact that these rebels had even been capable of executing a plan so widespread and disruptive had been a mistake on their end, Narcissa could admit that to herself at least. Of course, there were a few specific Death Eaters whom the blame probably fell most heavily upon, but the time to point fingers had passed and she supposed it made little difference anymore. âCertainly. Iâm confident this will all blow over nearly as quickly as it came.â The fact that this resistance remained, for the most part, faceless was probably what disturbed her the most -- Cissa was far more comfortable when she knew exactly who she was up against -- but she refused to let that scare her. Instead, she embraced the challenge, strategizing ways to bite off its head without knowing its shape, putting thoughts into action. The worst move possible at the moment was to stand still and wait for it to show its full form.Â
Quidditch was one of those subjects Narcissa didnât really keep up with, outside of the updates and announcements made about it in the Daily Prophet, as had she ever held much of an interest for the sport. Of course, back at Hogwarts she would come out to the big games to support Emma, and from that she had learned the general idea of the sport. Sheâd also learned that Emma was extremely talented with a broomstick. But that was really the extent of her knowledge. Then Lucius came along, more passionate about quidditch than anyone she knew -- save her present company -- and she thanked the stars she had had Emma around to bolster her vocabulary. The semi-recent cancellation of the World Cup, however, was something she did know -- in fact, the article about it had made the front page.Â
âHm,â Narcissa made a noise of disapproval. She hadnât been surprised when she read of the Leagueâs previous lack of restrictions on the lesser-blooded quidditch players, not when the wizarding world had been so high pressed on equality for all the blood types. But now, with the world shifting back to how it should be, she supposed she was pleased the quidditch scene was evolving too, even if it meant a slight delay while it got back on its feet again. âWell, Iâm sure theyâll sort this out quickly and have you back on your broom in no time,â she reassured.
âI hadnât,â she replied, biting her lip before continuing a bit more warily, âActually, I'm here because I heard a rumor of a new item the shop's aquired -- some necklace, a brooch maybe -- with special properties. Word is it can hide what the wearer doesn't want to be found. I was simply curious to know these rumors are true."
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