Chapter Four

Molly hesitated for a moment inside the door of the Gryffindor Common Room, and then squared her shoulders before heading out to go down the eight flights of stairs to where the Slytherins lurked in the dungeons. She had to meet to with Narcissa Black; there was nothing else for it. Surely two sensible girls could set aside their differences for the sake of each getting what she wanted. And she was sure Narcissa did want Lucius Malfoy; it was just that that she hadn't seen much enthusiasm in Lucius when she had mentioned that. Lucius had seemed more interested in what Molly thought that Arthur could offer her that he couldn't; she knew it was nothing that Lucius would ever understand. She was, of course, suitably flattered that one such as Lucius had had a fancy for her, one that had turned to an obsession, but she was slightly alarmed that he seemed to have mistaken it for love, and whatever rights over her he assumed that gave him. She was sure he would change though; it wasn't as though Narcissa weren't a perfect match for him: two white-blonds, a beautiful couple, epitomizing their families' social standing. She smiled fondly to herself at the thought of her and Arthur: two redheads, the epitome of their families' down-in-your-luck, living-on-borrowed-time-and-money standing. What could be simpler? Men just had to be led by the nose sometimes.

Lucius had left her after a while the previous night, but not before Molly had seen his bitterness twist his mouth, not before he had begun mentioning Arthur in more and more derogatory terms, until Molly became a little uncomfortable about it. She hoped there wasn't going to be trouble, yet she knew there could be. Molly knew something even Arthur didn't know; after all, her father did some business with the Malfoys. Molly knew that the promissory notes for the Weasley's string of little shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, and even on the Burrow, were held by Abraxas Malfoy; she hoped Arthur wasn't the only one who didn't know, she hoped Lucius didn't know either.

She was only on the second downward flight when she saw a blonde head bobbing far below her, on the way up.

'Narcissa?' she called over the banister, resisting the urge to call her "Black" as she normally did. 'Can I see you for a moment?'

'Molly,' Narcissa replied, returning the tentative compliment, her piping little voice echoing off the stone walls. 'I was just coming to see you actually... if you have a few minutes.'

Molly pushed down the flood of relief. She had hardly dared hope that she wouldn't be met with outright hostility when she called to see Narcissa; or even worse, she could have had to box a few rounds with Bellatrix first. But now it seemed Narcissa was as anxious to speak to her as Molly was to speak to Narcissa, and she was alone.

Narcissa leant against the wall; she had just got her breath back from racing up the first three flights of stairs before her courage gave way, and now her heart was hammering in some sort of relief that Molly wasn't about to slam any doors in her face. Perhaps something could be salvaged from this mess after all; perhaps it just needed two different girls to set aside those very differences and concentrate on their own goals. At least their aims didn't clash; that had to be something, and if she weren't mistaken, Narcissa thought that Arthur had puffed his chest out a little when she had mentioned that she thought Molly Prewett had her eye on him. Narcissa just hoped she hadn't been mistaken.

It was just that now, what with the roses... and how... damnit, how kind Arthur had been, telling her that she deserved the very best in life, and that Lucius Malfoy was probably the boy who could give that to her, and that he would gladly stand aside and not trouble her any more for the sake of her happiness... well, it was just that now Narcissa wasn't quite as sure as she had been. It wasn't that she fancied Arthur Weasley, she told herself, far from it, but there was something about Arthur that was more precious than anything Narcissa Black had ever come across in her privileged life, and she knew what it was. There was a difference in giving for procurement's sake, or for the admiration of others, or even as an act of charity for one's conscience; Arthur had given her roses, and Narcissa knew deep within her, as she suspected he did too, that he had given them with his heart, and had had no real hope of return.

*****

'A love potion?' Severus echoed, his mouth twisted in a disgusted sneer as he looked at the two girls who had dragged him into the library.

'Please, Severus,' Molly said, and Snape didn't think he imagined that she had drawn a breath, and thrust her alarming bosom out at him, as though in some kind of bizarre offer of payment.

'I'll pay you, Severus,' Narcissa said quickly, as though she too perhaps thought that Molly was about to offer her charms. She dipped into her robes, as if she were about to hand him a stack of Galleons right there and then instead.

'I... I'm not making a love potion,' he snapped. 'Who do you think I am, ruddy Cupid?'

'Please,' Molly wheedled.

'Yes... please,' Narcissa added. 'In fact two love potions... one for Lucius and one for Arthur.'

'I... I don't know how to,' he said, at last admitting grudgingly what he hadn't wanted to admit before. 'And even if I did, I wouldn't,' he added in a hurry, when he saw Narcissa draw a small leather book from her robe, just as Molly drew a small leather pouch from hers.

'We do,' Molly said.

'And you will,' Narcissa added. 'Or we'll tell Lucius that you've told everyone that he took roses to Molly, and she knocked him back.'

'And then we'll tell Bella you fancy her something rotten, but you're just too scared to ask her out,' Molly added for good measure.

'That's blackmail,' Snape expostulated, feeling rather like a rat in a trap.

'He's beginning to get the idea,' Molly said to Narcissa.

*****

As a damage limitation exercise went, it had been fairly successful, Severus supposed. He was quite proud of the potion; neither Lucius nor Arthur had died, or broken out in a green rash. Lucius asked Narcissa to the Yule Ball, and Arthur asked Molly. Severus had extracted, well, perhaps extorted, a promise from the two girls that they would tell no one of the potion, hinting that he had added an ingredient that he could activate to make both boys double their body weight in two weeks, if anyone came anywhere near him again looking for such a potion. He was quite sure neither girl believed him though.

As it turned out, only Severus was at a loose end, finally fed up with Alice, a condition brought about by finding her with Walden Macnair when he went to retrieve his broom from the broom cupboard he thought only he ever used, only it seemed Severus wasn't the only one who used it.

*****

To think it could have turned out an awful lot worse, Molly thought happily, as she cuddled below the eiderdown, listening to her Arthur snoring lightly beside her. She found herself wondering how her Slytherin partner in crime had got on, her brow furrowing lightly as she remembered the only incident that had marred the most wonderful night of her life.

Late on in the evening she had been dancing with Arthur, her Arthur, Molly corrected herself, and found they were next to Lucius and Narcissa, and she had given the little blonde Slytherin a smile, a secrets-shared smile, only to be rewarded with a cold look as Narcissa turned away... Molly corrected herself again as she thought about it properly; it might have been a cold look, but she rather fancied it was a troubled one too.

Arthur snored again, and began mumbling, as Molly tried to make out what he was dreaming about, terrified she might not be the true object of his innermost desires, love potion or not. He harrumphed, and let out a snort that might have been a dream laugh, and began snoring lightly again. She would have to do something about this before he woke the whole Gryffindor girls' sixth-year dorm, not that most of them weren't either mysteriously absent or had a boy of their own in their beds, she thought, pinching his nostrils ever-so-slightly. Her heart seemed to swell in her breast as he muttered in his sleep, 'Molly.'

*****

It should have been different; Narcissa was sure it should have been different. She didn't think she should feel cold and empty and used... abused, she corrected herself. Her mother had once told her not to expect much from sex, that it was a thing of men's pleasure, not women's, but that hadn't seemed to equate to what the other girls she shared confidences with had told her. Narcissa knew better now; a girl should always listen to her mother. He had taken her virginity, and her pride and her self-respect, with no thought or care for her pain or her humiliation, and had left her to make her miserable way to her own dorm from his Head Boy's room alone. Yes, her mother had been right.

Narcissa pulled her eiderdown around her, wondering why she was so cold that she was almost shivering, and let her thoughts drift to where it had all gone wrong.

It had begun well enough, she supposed. Lucius had complimented her dress and her jewellery, although he had made no mention of the hours and the charms she had spent decorating her white-blonde tresses with green-tinted seed pearls that exactly matched her dress. Then Narcissa had made her first mistake, and had asked Lucius if he liked her hair. It wasn't as if he looked at it before he commented that the colour wasn't his favourite for hair; it was more that he avoided looking at it, and as Narcissa caught sight of Molly Prewett's red mass of unadorned tumbling curls, she knew what he meant. That was the trouble with love potions, she supposed, they might be able to make someone love you, but she doubted they could make them un-love someone else too.

As the night wore on some couples began to drift off, to other entertainments, she supposed, and she once again saw Molly and Arthur across the hall, laughing and cuddling openly as they danced, the way she had hoped to do.

'Shall we have a drink with Molly and Arthur?' she had asked Lucius, anxious to release the tension she had felt building up, thinking perhaps some company would do that.

Lucius had held her at arm's length, and she had been quite confused by his intensity, almost frightened. 'You have a choice in life, Narcissa, as we all do. Would you like to know what yours is?' She had hardly nodded before he went on, in a way that made her think that her opinion mattered little to him. 'You either stay away from those two, or you stay away from me. Now do tell me, Narcissa, because I do not intend to waste any more time with you than I have already done, if you intend to consort any further with Gryffindors.'

She weighed it up quickly, too quickly; she knew that now. But she had her station in life to think about, and the envious looks of the other Slytherin girls when she had arrived in the hall on Lucius's arm to weigh up, and the expectations of her parents, and the way Bellatrix's nose seemed to have been rather pleasingly put out-of-joint to consider; she had weighed it up so quickly that she quite forgot about Narcissa Black.

*****