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Miss Narcissia Black watched from the background as her cousin’s bold move ensnared Heir James Potter. Siriana cut her hair off and gave it to the wizard she loved in a declaration of love that went beyond any that had been given by a witch in living memory.
Narcissa, educated in the Black family history, saw the declaration for the proclamation that it was, parallel to the old story of how the Black family began. As she sits at her dressing table brushing her floor length hair, Narcissa feels the edges of the Black family madness nibble at her mind. Narcissa acknowledges she is pretty, but as the youngest daughter of a cadet branch of a pureblood family she does not have many marriage prospects. If driven to it, Narcissa’s parents may accept for her a mistress contract.
Narcissa knows that there are no wizards who she might hope would love her half as much as Heir James Potter loves her cousin. And, driven to despair, she plans.
None will love her, and she loves none and hopes not for love. Her parents are obligated to take care of her, but unless there are extenuating circumstances they will not do that for much longer now that she is 17 and graduated from Hogwarts with not a single Courtship Date under her belt.
If she is in a magical coma on the other hand, her parents will probably keep her in comfort for as long as is necessary to wake her. With this logic in mind, Narcissa tips back the bottle of Draught of Living Death that she carefully brewed after concocting her plan. She lays back on her bed as the first drops slide down her throat.
Her “death” was carefully planned, however: She never planned on waking up.
And she never anticipated who would wake her up.
~
When Heir Lucius Malfoy hears that Miss Narcissa Black has seemingly voluntarily drunk the Draught of Living Death, his agony is so great that the Malfoys are forced to cancel all their social events for two weeks while the family magics heal from the sorrow that ripped through them and the manor isrestored to its former beauty.
Once he recovers from the magical exhaustion brought on by the great release of magic and is permitted out of bed, he requests a meeting with Lord Orion Black and Master Cygnus Black. Lord Orion as the head of the Black family is the one who all those who wish to court any daughters of the Black family must go through, and Master Cygnus Black as a pleasantry that is more traditional than necessary.
“I will do everything in my power to awaken Miss Black” Lucius swears, “all I ask for in exchange is a single Courtship Date with her.” He is still berating himself for not making his interest in her sooner, for not sending a Courtship Offer the morning of her 15th birthday as is traditional. He has drafted many over the last two years, but absent the courage of a Potter or Longbottom he did not send any of them. If he had dared to send one of them, would Narcissa refrained from drinking a potion that would put her into stasis, declaring to the world that she was waiting without hope?
As he pours his heart out to the Black Lord and his cousin in an uncharacteristic display of passion, the two men watch him impassively. When he is finished detailing how he plans to use the Wiggenweld Potion he boldly brought with him to the meeting, they ask him to leave the room but stay in the manor.
Accompanied by Narcissa’s father after an agreement from her uncle, he walks with sweating palms and shaky gait to the room where she lies tended to by house elves with her mother vigilant by her side.
With Cygnus watching, Lucius carefully applies the Wiggenweld potion to his lips and leans over her.
Narcissa is paler than normal, nearly translucent against the white sheets of her bed. A black and silver dressing gown matches the coverlet perfectly, and her hair is immaculately up in some intricate hairstyle unlike any he has seen on other witches although that may merely be because she is the one wearing it not someone else.
When he kisses her, he cannot bear to touch her lips for longer than absolutely necessary. Their first kiss should be when she is awake and the one giving him her Maiden’s Kiss, not this orchestrated brush of lips to wake her from a self-induced coma that he still blames himself for.
While she stirs in her sleep and blinks awake, Lucius sweeps out of the room to leave her alone with her family. He cannot face the potential rejection-did he misread the signs? Did she drink the Draught merely for the eternal slumber it promised?
~
Narcissa when she awakens hears her sisters calling after a tall figure with white-blond hair even finer than hers. Before she can process that Heir Lucius Malfoy awoke her from her slumber, he is gone and her mother is fussing over her along with Meda and Bella.
She is not given a chance to ask questions for a while, as the house elves help her into the bath and dress her in elegant house robes with the matching hair combs. Finally, as she sits in the sun on what appears to be a fine summer day with a cup of Lady Gray tea, her mother tells her all while her sisters stumble over each other in their shock.
“Heir Malfoy sent your uncle a request to meet two weeks after you were found unconscious.” Madam Druella Black sounds calm, but her hands shake. Narcissa deeply regrets what she did, an unthinking choice which no doubt destroyed not only her parents but also her sisters and cousins and friends. She will need to send Lady Violetta Parkinson an especially kind present this coming Yule, as her best friend has no doubt been devastated.
“There was a rumor that he could not send it sooner due to being bedridden.” Andromeda adds, one hand wrapped around her pregnant belly. Narcissa’s niece or nephew, the child of Andromeda and New Blood Ted Tonks is due in only a couple months.
“Agonized at the thought of losing his Black beauty no doubt” Bellatrix winks, making Narcissa blush.
“After that” Druella says, “things moved rather quickly. He had the potion to awaken you already on his person, and you know what happens next.”
“I woke up.” Narcissa says quietly, marveling at the words. A wizard who loved her enough to awaken her from the Living Death. Could it be?
“We begged him to stay,” Bellatrix sighed, “but he would not linger another minute.”
“What does he want out of all of this?” Narcissa demands, already planning the Malfoy blue and Black silver that she will wear on her bonding day.
“A single courtship date.” Master Cygnus Black says from behind her, squeezing her shoulder as he sits next to his lady-wife.
Narcissa wonders at the wizard who she has already resolved will be her lord-husband. She hopes that she will stop Heir Lucius’ apparent line of thinking that for what he has done and the love he has shown her he only deserves a single Courtship Date. For what he has done, Narcissa intends to be Heiress Consort Malfoy by the end of the summer.