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It had to be fate.
Fate—when she first met him, towering tall over her, so stoic and still like a Grecian statue. Strong nose, sharp edge to his jaw and piercing grey eyes that looked right through her, to her soul.
She had felt it, something sparking within her as their gazes met, something pulling taut in her belly, and Narcissa had known it could be nothing else but fate.
Their marriage was designed, arranged and drawn up by power-hungry fathers and more than obliging mothers, the illusion of choice and love all arbitrary clouds that would pass them by. But as they grew to know each other, it became more and more solidified in her mind.
Fate.
The soft whisper of a first kiss in busy school halls, stolen away in a hidden corridor. Sending each other love letters, enchanted to fly across the castle, crash landing on her desk as she studied away. And when all her friends fawned over their budding romance, hounding her with questions of
What is it like?
How was the kiss?
Are you in love?
She answers them all, and again reclaims—it’s more than love, it’s fate.
Fate as Lucius lays his head in her lap in their common room, his eyes closed in feigned sleep. Narcissa runs her fingers through his pale blonde hair, so similar to her own.
“Andromeda told me of a muggle Greek myth,” she breaks the silence. “That all humans were initially created with two heads, four arms and four legs.”
His brow twitched in annoyance at the disruption, but he smoothed it out before she even noticed. “And why would she tell you such a horrific tale?”
Narcissa playfully shoved at his shoulder. “It’s romantic, if you let me finish! Anyways, these supposed humans were powerful beings. But Zeus, the god of lightning, became fearful of them, and in his fear, he split them all into two.”
Lucius abruptly sat up, looking at her incredulously. “That’s absurd. He was a god. Why would he fear a mere human, regardless of their power? They’re mortal.”
Narcissa stifled her laugh and ignored his question. “It is said that these humans roamed the earth for the rest of their lives, in desperate search of their other half. Their soulmate.”
She grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers. “When they find them, they must feel it in their souls. Like us, it’s fate.”
Lucius pulled her to him then, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, her wrist held tightly between their bodies. “Cissa,” he muttered against her lips. “That story is for muggles. It’s asinine and primitive. I don’t want to hear you speak of them again. Your sister would do well to do the same.”
That had been the first time Lucius had planted the seed of fear in her heart.
But it was only once, she told herself. And it was foolish of her to bring up a silly muggle tale. They were purebloods after all.
It was still fate.
Fate, as she lay under him, bare for the first time. His pupils blown out, so wide that the grey of his eyes were nearly gone as they roamed over her body. His touch had been so gentle, hands pressed to her breasts, a perfect fit. His lips trailed down her jaw and neck, promises of nuptials and heirs and the world on a silver platter.
Grunted claims of
Mine
Mine
Mine.
As he filled her so perfectly, she cried out his name and he bit down on her lip as he spilled into her, and she knew it to be true.
Fate.
Even when it hurt.
Fate when she pulls her skirt down to hide the bruise on her leg, and he comes up behind her, snatching her arm and dragging her into a corridor.
Lucius’ eyes had gone dark, the muscle of his jaw protruding from his tight he was clenching his teeth. His grip on her wrist was tight enough she knew it would leave a mark.
“I told you I don’t want you writing to your deranged sister!” He hissed, holding up the evidence of her exchanged letters with Andromeda. “That filthy blood traitor is going to brainwash you.”
Narcissa snatched her limb from him, her own chin raised in defiance. “Are you saying I’m incapable of making my own decisions? Or free thinking? I need my sister or—or you to tell me what I should think?”
There was a pang in her chest. This is where they had their first kiss.
Before he could answer she stormed away, throwing over her shoulder, “Don’t ever grab me like that again.”
But he would.
She had ran into the girls laboratory before anyone could see the evidence of another broken chip of her heart, written in the dampness on her face.
He hadn’t meant it this time, right?
He was only looking out for her. After all, what would the other families think if they knew she was writing to her ostracized sister, excommunicated from the family for falling for a Mudblood?
Besides, it was fate .
Fate as she cried silently into the night, broken whispers of spells intended to heal and mask what he’d done. Tears and pleas falling on the deaf ears of fate.
She didn’t understand. Hadn’t fate once been so kind? Sent her love and adoration and salvation from her loneliness?
When did it turn so cruel?