Inquietum
est cor nostrum, donec requiescat in te.*
AUGUSTINUS
– Confessiones
The
wedding was scheduled for July 07th – exactly one week after
Narcissa’s graduation. She hadn’t even tried to keep her mother from planning a
huge ceremony with eight hundred guests; the only point she had prevailed on
was that they wouldn’t be married by Pater Anselm, her mother’s priest and
confessor. She wasn’t religious, and she took her wedding far too serious to
seal it with a ceremony that had no meaning for her, or the groom. They wanted
to make their own vows.
Amandine
had been out of herself, beseeching her daughter, begging her on her knees,
soothsaying that it was bad luck to enter conjugal life without the proper
blessings, crying, sobbing, wailing, but for once in her life, Narcissa hadn’t
obliged her by giving in. Pater Anselm was invited and heartily welcome, but he
would not perform the ceremony – Abraxas and Cygnus would. The former would
gladly do her any favour she’d ask for, while her father was supremely proud in
bringing his favourite daughter’s wedding about, he was neither superstitious
nor religious like his wife, let alone Catholic. And if he had to part with his
‘little flower’, he could at least have a central role in the deplorable
incident.
In time,
he had accustomed to Lucius – the boy had proven his reliability and
consistency, was actually willing to stake his life on it, and even when
Cygnus’ fatherly jealousy would never allow true affection for this rival for
his darling Narcissa’s attachment, he could easily see how happy his dearest
child was with him. And her happiness was what counted after all.
Poor Amandine, aggrieved as she was anyway, found no sleep in the nights
prior to the wedding. She had so much to consider! And she still wasn’t
satisfied with the robes. It was her own wedding gown, adjusted to fit
Narcissa, who was taller and had a smaller built. She had personally
embellished it with a thousand real diamonds and pearls, had sewn a matching
veil made of laces from Brussels had purchased a dozen pairs of shoes to give
her daughter a bit of a selection. And that was only that. The organisation of
the food, the robes for the bridesmaids, the fittings, having rooms in Malfoy
Manor prepared for the guests who’d stay overnight, the table arrangements, the
servants… And that she had to deal with the more than unpleasant father of the
bridegroom didn’t make her hard lot any simpler.
She had to handle it all by herself – she found that men had no talent
for those things, and none of her daughters was there to help either; Narcissa
still in school, Bellatrix supremely disinterested, and as for Andromeda… For
Narcissa had also insisted that both
of her sisters should be her bridesmaids, causing much trouble. It was obvious
that Andromeda wouldn’t come at all if her insufferable husband and
illegitimate children weren’t invited as well. On the other hand their
appearance must be prevented under all circumstances; Cygnus would get a
cardiac arrest of his own, and there were loads of other family members bound
to make unpleasant scenes. Amandine settled for the measles, feeling only un peu guilty of contaminating her own
grandchildren – it was worth that price – compelling the father to stay at home
with his sick offspring. Astonishingly, Andromeda didn’t even become
suspicious. Maybe she didn’t believe her old Maman capable of such underhanded
tricks.
Narcissa
herself didn’t sleep well either. She was incredibly excited. Her NEWT results
had been outstanding, she would begin to study Philosophy and Literature in
autumn, and in a few hours, she would be married,
able at last to be with the one she loved, and never part with him again. And
there was yet another aspect thrilling her out of her mind –
“Need any
tips?” Bellatrix asked leeringly, at the first possible occasion; their mother
had just left the room to fetch the jewels.
Narcissa
hardly listened, but Andromeda asked, “Tips for what exactly?”
“Oh, you
see, unlike certain other family
members, our dearest Cissily here will go as a virgin to her wedding bed.”
“What?!”
“Leave
it, Bella,” Narcissa muttered, wondering how to fasten the garters. “I really
don’t want to debate this. Help me with that thing, if you want to do something
useful.”
Bellatrix
obeyed concerning the second plea, but merrily continued, “Your groom deserves
an award, Cissy. The poor guy!”
“If
there’s one thing that Lucius Malfoy is not,
it’s this – he’s not poor, neither technically nor figuratively,” Andromeda
gnarled. Being poor was a touchy
subject with her, since her own father had pulled every string to prevent Ted
from getting a good job, and the whole family had live on the modest salary
that he earned as a Muggle warehouseman, and the occasional paintings he’d
manage to sell.
“The poor guy,”
Bellatrix stubbornly went on, “didn’t get it for – what – twenty months or so?”
“You are kidding me!”
Narcissa
sighed in exasperation. “No, she’s not
kidding you. Can we get over with this?!”
“You’re a
virgin? You’re engaged for more than a year- to that guy – and yet you’re a virgin?!”
“You say
that as if it were immoral!”
“I’m just
gobsmacked! I hadn’t figured that even you
could be that – uhm – reserved!”
“If you
truly want to know – it wasn’t my
idea.”
“You
didn’t seriously listen to Maman then?” Andromeda asked, a whole bit less
upfront. She knew what had made their parents heighten the security measures to
guard their youngest daughter.
“The
bridegroom himself suggested it, Andy,” Bella snarled.
“You mean
Malfoy – no – come on! You’re both
kidding me! The guy shagged half of the frigging school, he –”
“Quit
making remarks about my soon-to-be husband, will you! I’d also prefer it if you
could use his first name, at least on our wedding day, and if you could get by
without some gibes about his ex-girlfriends!”
“But you did consider that only because he hasn’t
slept with you, it doesn’t follow
that he –”
Narcissa
had opened her mouth for a sharp – and hurt – reply, but Bellatrix was faster. Way faster; Andromeda suddenly found a
wand pressed against her throat and her older sister breathing down her neck. “Shut up, Andy,” she growled flatly and
with unveiled threat. “I’d hate to ruin Cissy’s great day by cursing my fellow
bridesmaid, but if either of us two
must ruin her day, it’ll be me.
Understood?”
“Leave
her, Bella,” Narcissa groaned. “I appreciate your commitment, but it really
won’t do. And Andy – I know you cannot stand the sight of Lucius, but you leave
him alone, too. Suffice to hear that
I know, okay? I’m not half as naïve
as you seem to believe.”
Andromeda
shook her head, but said no more, and they helped Narcissa to put on her robes,
her jewels, her veil. Amandine was crying already when they left the house to
Apparate to Malfoy Manor altogether, Cygnus rehearsed his lines over and over,
and the two older sisters bickered all the way through. None of them was fit to
support the bride who felt on the verge of fainting; no one even seemed to
notice. She wanted by all means to marry – there was only one part of the
celebration that made her panic – another thing that hadn’t been her idea.
The
wedding ceremony took place in the gardens next to the lake. Hundreds of chairs
had been put up, the guests were waiting in eager anticipation – if not for the
romantic bits, they were keen on the dinner anyway – and down the aisle,
Narcissa saw Lucius and Abraxas waiting. She clung to her father’s arm, not
knowing how they got over there, all she could see was her fiancé – husband – groom, anyway, their gazed locked at
once. Abraxas held his solemn speech, then the young couple knelt down and held
each other’s hands.
“À la
très chère, à la très belle,” Lucius began reciting the first ever poem he had
memorised because of her; not bothering to raise his voice. He was speaking for
her, not the guests in the back rows. “Qui remplit mon cœur de clarté; à
l’ange, à l’idole immortelle, salut en l’immortalité! Elle se répand dans ma
vie comme un air imprégné de sel et dans mon âme inassouvie verse le goût de l’éternel…
À la très bonne, à la très belle, qui fait ma joie et ma santé, à
l’ange, à l’idole immortelle, salut en immortalité!*”
Narcissa
took a deep breath and answered equally quiet, “How do I love thee? Let me
count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can
reach, when feeling out of sight for the ends of being and ideal grace. I love
thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love
thee freely, as men strive for right, I love thee purely, as they turn from
praise. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my
childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost
saints. I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life – and, if
god choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”*
Abraxas
and Cygnus stepped forth and both took their respective child’s hand. “Do you,
Lucius Apollonius Maximus, take my beloved daughter Narcissa Leda Aurora’s hand
to be joined for good in holy matrimony?”
“I do,”
he whispered, reaching out for Narcissa’s hand.
“Will you
do everything in your power to make my dearest child happy on every single day
of her life?”
“I will!”
Abraxas
cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded unfamiliarly gentle. “And do
you, my dear Narcissa, take my son Lucius’ hand to be joined for good in holy
matrimony?”
She was
lost in Lucius’ silvery eyes. “I do!”
“Will you
stand by him, for better or worse, as long as you both shall live?”
“I will!”
Her heart
was beating so madly, she could hardly catch her breath. Lucius put the ring on
her finger and she put on his, then their hands entwined. The two fathers raised
their wands, shooting up golden and silvery sparks, and solemnly announced the
young couple to be husband and wife. Narcissa was glad that she had years and
years of experience to keep her composure, because she felt like crying. She
was so unspeakably happy. As a matter of fact, she was afraid she’d pass out on
the spot – every ounce of common sense in her screamed that they ought to stop right here – they were married, they didn’t need the following – but Lucius pressed her hand, mouthed an ‘I
love you’ and shot her a reassuring smile.
She
faintly shook her head, her eyes imploring him to stop, but he didn’t. He
looked very earnest and spoke very clearly, “Will you, my beloved Narcissa,
respect and honour me as your husband, treasure our love and hold it dear, for
better and worse, in health and in sickness, until the end of time?”
“I will,”
she breathed, looking straight into his eyes, and scared out of her wits. A
flame shot from Cygnus’ wand and wound around their joined hands. She scarcely
found her voice to continue, “And will you, Lucius, love and treasure me as
your wife, respect me, hold me dear, for better and worse, in health and in
sickness, until the end of time?”
“I will.”
Another
flame, and Narcissa took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a second, and
sighed, “And will you have faith in me, be true to me and our union, be
faithful to me as your wife until death doth us part?”
“I will,”
he said with emphasis, pressing her hand and shooting her a very intense look.
They had almost argued – for the first and hopefully last time since they were
together actually argued about this
part of their wedding oath. Curiously, it had been Lucius’ wish to add it,
while she had severely objected. Sadly, she was alone in her reluctance; her
father and Abraxas had found the idea brilliant as well. But this was an
Unbreakable Vow! He’d just die if he
trespassed against this oath, and as much as she feared the possibility of him
betraying her, it was still nothing compared to her dread of losing him for
good. He had insisted though, laughed off her doubts and reasoned that she must
have faith in him not to die, because
of his faith in her.
“So will
you have faith in me, trust me, be true to me and faithful until death doth us
part?”
“I will!”
She felt like sinking with agitation, adding under her breath, “Of course I
will!”
“I know,”
he whispered and shot her a wide smile, squeezing her hand again and gently
pulling her up. Louder, he declared with an enraptured smile, “Te amo, toto
meam corde in saecula saeculorum.*”
“Ego tu
sum, tu ego es, unius animi sumus!*”
Oh, and
she meant every single word! Never had she meant anything more seriously! –
They were married now – really, properly, officially married! Abraxas said some
more words that Narcissa could hardly listen to, oblivious to anything but the
man at her side; at least he had some
more scratches of focus left, or they would have stood there, transfixed to the
ground for the rest of the day. They kissed, far more chaste than either of
them would have wanted, but everything else would have been inappropriate, then
he tugged her arm under his and lead her along the aisle, everyone was cheering
and applauding, and from the corner of her eye, Narcissa saw her mother, lost
in tears, and Aunt Walburga pressing her wand against cousin Sirius’ cheek with
a resolute expression.
Lucius
murmured, “You think it would be considered as very bad style if we left right
now, my love?”
“It would
surely be considered so,” she replied with a gentle smirk. “Why, are you in a
hurry?”
“Not so
much hurry. I’m dying with impatience to be alone with you after all!”
She heard
Bellatrix’ and Andromeda’s suppressed giggles behind her back; in fact, she
felt a little bit like giggling herself. Once they had dealt with the countless
guests and managed to get through dinner, they would finally – finally! – be really together for the
first time! She was as thrilled with the idea as she felt suddenly anxious.
After all that time she had longed for this moment, she was suddenly worried
that she couldn’t stand up to his expectations… Her concerns vanished as
quickly as they had come; Lucius holding her tight, whispering vows of love
into her ear – this was the first day of the rest of her life, and she knew
that it would be perfect. Just – perfect. Her life was going to be heaven
on earth!
Well, so
far they were still very much on earth,
and the reception was an ordeal – the young couple, four parents (Lucius’
mother Elisabeth had indeed found the way to be present on her son’s great day,
after Amandine had paid her a visit and painted a glowing picture of the kind
of retribution she favoured in case Elisabeth spoilt this great day by not
showing up), two bridesmaids and 803 guests meant 6448 handshakes and forced
smiles on total. Her cousin Sirius – his mother’s wand still boring into his
back – didn’t even bother for so much; he merely beckoned at his cousin, and
ignored the groom altogether. They both saw countless people they thought they
had never met before, but who’d profess their best wishes nonetheless, or
people they hadn’t seen in ages,
who’d staunchly claim the newly-weds hadn’t changed the slightest bit since then. Narcissa was glad when Severus suddenly
stood before her – a truly friendly face, at last.
“I’m so
glad to see you!”
“Thanks
for the invitation, we’re very honoured –”
“Stop
this nonsense, kids! I have never spoken a single word to half of these people,
still I had to invite them. I’m very happy to shake hands with someone I
actually like!”
“Lovely
robes!”
“Lovely
ceremony!”
“Hang on
with your praise until you’ve tried the food, folks,” Lucius exclaimed
jocularly, shaking their hands as well. Narcissa beamed at her husband – husband, husband, husband, she couldn’t
get enough of the idea. Two and a half hours later, the reception was finally
over and they sat down for dinner. Amandine and Elisabeth had taken on
insulting each other in elaborate French about motherly duties, Andromeda and
Pater Anselm were arguing in plain English about the sanctity of chastity, Aunt
Walburga and her eldest threatened each other with eloquent Latin curses under
their breaths, and Bellatrix and Rodolphus were speechlessly getting drunk on
finest Irish Whiskey. Narcissa was perfectly oblivious of all this, incapable
to swallow a single bite – her entire attention focused on the man beside her.
“You look
so stunning, my precious… Pulchra enim sunt ubera quae paululum supereminent et
tument modice!*”
“Lucius!”
She blushed. “It doesn’t get more decent just because you say it in Latin!”
He
replied in an undertone, “I’m not inclined to be decent today, petal! Besides, the only one who has heard and
understood me is good Pater Anselm. Look at him!”
The good
old priest had fiercely reddened and turned his eyes down, and Narcissa
couldn’t suppress to laugh softly, whispering in return, “Poor man!”
“Poor me! I wonder whether we could leave just
now? I can’t take this much longer, I may end up saying something very inappropriate, very loudly!”
She shot
him her sweetest smile. “We need to get through dinner, mon amour!”
“All I
want to eat is you, sweetness!”
“And after dinner, we have to do three
dances, at least.”
“Three? Why’s that?”
She
laughed. “I thought my mother had introduced the protocol to you at great
length?”
“Great length being the key term in that,
blossom. Forgive my forgetfulness, but my mind must have been preoccupied with
very different matters…” He took her hand, kissed and caressed it, squinting up
to her with a decidedly suggestive grin.
“You’ll
have to dance with me, my love –”
“Gladly!
But we could do number two and three upstairs, couldn’t we?”
“Hardly,
because you’ll have the second dance with my mother, and the third with your mother, and I truly don’t want to
see either of them in our bedroom.”
“I won’t
dance with my mother and if my life depends on it!”
“Please,
mon amour. I know you cannot stand the sight of her, but do it for me.”
“That’s
not fair. You know I’d do anything for you!”
Rather
preoccupied, they got through their obligations, and Lucius was so distraught
he almost forgot to argue with Elisabeth. He hadn’t seen her in years, and the
last time he had seen her, their
parting had been more than a little ugly. She was cold and scornful as ever –
her son vaguely wondered why it hadn’t worked out between her and Abraxas; they
were perfect for each other! – and
she made a whole lot of derogatory remarks, starting with the wedding
arrangements and continuing with his new relations, which he returned with just
as much spite, until –
“And the
bride really should have –”
He
interrupted her at once, with the fiercest scowl. “You say one word about my wife, Mutter, and I swear by god, I’ll curse you
right here and now!”
“The same
sweet, patient temper like your father. How extraordinarily alike you two are!”
“Oh, yes,
as far as our dislike for you goes, we’re one heart and mind!”
She
smiled with mock sweetness. “Well, then all that remains for me to say is that
I wish your marriage will be just as
happy as your father’s and mine!”
He
smiled, too. “Now I know the one thing my mother-in-law forgot to organise,
indeed – we haven’t got a snake charmer to take care of you. Please, try to
spread not too much of your venom,
you might run out of it.”
“At least
your wits you got from me.”
“That was low, Mutter!”
He
wouldn’t allow her to spoil this great day though, and as soon as the last note
faded away, he had had enough, resolutely dropped his mother’s hand and took
his wife’s instead, marching out of the hall with her without even saying
goodbye to anyone.
“Finally,”
he said softly.
Narcissa
nodded with a brilliant smile. “At last!”
He
embraced and kissed her, lifted her up and carried her upstairs, which wasn’t
only romantic, but also pretty necessary, because Narcissa was so dizzy, she
couldn’t have relied on her own legs. He whispered into her ear what he
intended to do with her, making her only more excited, and she managed to
murmur, “I hope you’re not disappointed with me…”
He
laughed and brushed a kiss on her forehead. “Nonsense! What are you talking
about?”
“Oh, you
know… I never –”
“My
love,” he groaned very earnestly. “I’ve dreamt of this night for – oh Merlin, a
couple of years, and had practically nothing else on my mind in the past six
months. You might well assume that my expectations are as high as they could
possibly be. But there’s nothing you
could do wrong, all right? Trust me. Absolutely nothing. Except falling asleep, perhaps…” He chuckled and chucked
her under the chin. “Leave it all to me.”
Amandine
would have appreciated his care regarding his first approach of undressing his
wife, and have been utterly appalled by the vigour with which he ripped off the
rest. This gown wouldn’t be worn by another bride, so much was certain; countless
diamonds and pearls were rolling over the floor, shreds of costly Belgian lace
everywhere. Suffice to say that neither of them was in any way disappointed
with the following nights and days – they actually had to postpone the
beginning of their honeymoon trip, because they both flatly refused to leave
the bedroom.
* Inquietum… Stirred are
our hearts until they find rest in you.
* From : Charles Baudelaire, ‘Hymne’. – English translation by
Roy Campbell, Jacques LeClercq and myself
To the most
lovely, the most dear,
who steeps
my heart in splendency;
angel,
immortal idol, hear!
All hail in
immortality!
Into my
life she flows translated
as saline
breezes fill the sky,
and pours
into my soul unsated
the taste
of what can never die.
To the most
good one, the most dear,
my joy, my
health, my sanity –
angel,
immortal idol, hear!
I hail thee
in eternity!
* From: Elizabeth Barrett-Browning, ‘Sonnet XLIII’
* Te amo... I love you with all my heart, to the end of time.
* Ego tu sum... I am you, you are me, we are one heart and one soul.
* Pulchra... For beautiful are those breasts that protrude a little and swell
with measure!
*****
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