Post by NARCISSA VIRGA BLACK on Feb 18, 2013 21:32:41 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #d3d1d1; background:url(http://i88.photobucket.com/albums/k193/HorridRomance_2006/VF_l38.jpg); width: 300px; height: 400px; -moz-border-radius: 2em; border-radius: 2em; -webkit-border-radius: 2em; border: #d3d1d1 3px solid;] beautiful & dirty rich , Narcissa yanked on her skirt, straightening the fabric out as she brushed the abundant layer of floo powder from her body. She detested floo travel, really. But it was so much more of a nuisance to figure out where Lucius Malfoy managed to create ward-free apparition areas. With her limited experience and relatively new license, flooing was a much more safe option (albeit a dirty one). It wasn’t as if she could ask the man, either. A letter to the Ministry would, no doubt, go unnoticed amongst other important correspondences. Her queries on travel were less important than…whatever he did. She still wasn’t entirely sure what his position in the Ministry entailed, other than the fact he must be awfully important. She also, admittedly, was not supposed to leave Malfoy Manor. Lucius had actually gone over her grounds-only restrictions several times. But she was bored. What mess could she make in Diagon Alley, anyway? He’d accompanied her out once already and she’d hardly had time to finish much needed shopping. Not a soul, not even a sister, would recognize her. Yes, she was undoubtedly the woman in all the portraits hanging throughout the estate but no one in their right mind would be looking for her younger self. Narcissa thus assumed that a small excursion, to get the dust from her lungs and several additions to her wardrobe (and, possibly, a small scoop of black currant and peppermint ice cream), would be absolutely harmless. She hadn’t expected the small alley to change so much in the…how many years in the future were they anyway? Almost twenty years, she calculated quickly. She bit her lip, cupping her left hand over her eyes to shield her vision from the sun. Twenty years in the future was almost astounding to think of, really. That was more years than ones she’d actually lived. People bustled about in entirely different fashions. Denim pants clung to young women’s legs as they chased shaggy-haired children of indistinguishable gender. There were the old matrons, still, who sat inside various tea shops and watched said mothers through the safety of the glass. At least that seemed familiar, except for that fact that many of those matrons had been young mothers in her own time. The very idea was overwhelming. She wondered if any of her schoolmates were ushering children about in search of school supplies- surely they had married and produced children too. Narcissa closed her eyes and leaned against the brick side of Twilfitt and Tatting’s. She found, over the past few days, that she could only comprehend so much. While she could state she was in the future and know it to be truth, so many things began to feel more and more unbelievable as the days wore on. She could be told and state that she produced Draco from her womb, but that did nothing to explain any of the maternal feelings nor explain to her what to do with him. Lucius was another matter entirely: she could see her Lucius before her but had to remind herself that he was not her Lucius. She was not the Narcissa he was married too. He was the same man she loved and ached to be held by, but at the very same time he was a perfect stranger who did not sneak past her great-aunt to join her in the bathtub shortly after her seventeenth birthday. And the friends she had cultivated during her years at school, they were not the same girls. They were woman now, not the bosom confidants that had spent early mornings together in a too-small bathroom applying various potions and cosmetics as only young women can do. These girls who had giggled beneath sheets, reading magazines and laughing at Mary-Anne Wentworth because she’d been caught near her common room snogging a portrait, would be delivering sons and daughters to the Platform and leaving. What would she do when she arrived at Hogwarts? Who would she sit with on the train? She had heard nothing of her friends being caught in a similar predicamen,t so surely the only soul she would know would be her son. Narcissa swallowed, turning her head slightly and catching a glimpse of a bright purple poster. Well, really, it wasn’t the color that caught her gaze but the bright, smiling photograph in the midst of the poster. Because that dewy-eyed girl was her. “Miss Narcissa Black of the illustrious Black and Malfoy families has been given a 2nd lease on life, offering her services to the less forunate at Saint Mungo's Hospital.” What poppycock! Narcissa ripped the poster down before moving from her hiding spot beside the store. She wasn’t the only one with her glittering smile plastered over the various shop fronts. She read the first several, trying to understand what was going on. The Ministry was placing them up, if the small logo in the corner of all the posters indicated. It was as if the Ministry planned this all along! They were telling people that ripping these poor souls from their proper place in time was for the good of humanity. The blonde scowled, tearing down yet another poster. So people knew. So there were many people involved in all of this! They couldn’t use her good name to promote anything, much less claim that she volunteered. It was terrible, horrible, vexing, and all together rotten. Narcissa found the nearest tea shop, ordered the most ridiculous sounding pastry, and filled her little cup twice before her breath began to near normal. WORDS: 921 credit to hay shay ! at caution 2.0 |
