ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 42: Malfoy Masquerade

Slytherin common room met Narcissa with a cold green flame of the fireplace and a heap of scattered notebooks left by juniors. Black frowned; when Lucius was a prefect, they didn't allow themselves this.

The dark winding corridor with long darkened glass on the walls that went directly to the depths of the underwater lake had long ceased to frighten her. Sirius often repeated that Slytherin dorm was an aquarium with piranhas, and it really was. Literally. Piranhas lived in this lake and Lucius always scared first-years that he would feed them to bloodthirsty fish if they didn't obey him.

Each iron door along the corridor bore a name and a genealogy tree. The information was useless since every self-respecting offspring of a noble family memorized all possible genealogies by heart before entering the school. But the status of blood on Slytherin was in the first place.

The family door opened as soon as Narcissa approached her bedroom. Candles flashed all over the room and a greenish flame blazed over the witch sitting in the chair.

"I didn't expect you today."

Eliza Killbrook, in a simple white dress sitting in Narcissa's favorite chair, was quietly reading muggle classics. She lifted her head and, standing up, smiled gently.

"Narcissa," Eliza tilted her head. "I want to talk."

"Do you?" Narcissa walked slowly along the carpet, unbuttoning her robe and taking off her hairpin. Luxurious hair, casting white gold in a magical light, splashed on her back. "I thought you'd be at the Farewell Party. Erica asked for your visit."

"I couldn't be there with so many purebloods," Eliza replied. She stood straight, holding the book in her hands and smiling sweetly.

"Of course."

Narcissa sank smoothly onto the bed, plunging her hands into a furry white blanket.

"I would be very grateful to you," Eliza walked around Narcissa to look her in the eye, "if you introduced me into your circle. As Malfoy's future wife, we will become almost relatives and your word will mean a lot."

"Why are you flattering me?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're trying to be diplomatist although you're sick of the treatment like that toward yourself. You're trying not to be rude to me, to be gentle and almost affectionate, but you're not taught this art."

Eliza was silent, waiting for the continuation, or rather, clues of how to proceed.

"The Lord doesn't tolerate the weak. He took half-blood Severus with a much less famous name in his circle and, therefore, he will take you, too."

"Is Severus a half-blood?" Eliza's brow flew up.

"You didn't know?" Narcissa smiled.

"How do you know all this? Why weren't you surprised when I told you my real name?"

"Because," Narcissa snapped. "Do you want to serve the Lord? Do you want to serve him and not share the burden of marriage with other pureblood ladies?"

"I do."

"It's unusual."

"I was brought up in a different society and used to be strong."

"Me too," Narcissa said sharply. "But the power can be different. It can be passive and wise, or aggressive and crushing."

Eliza shrugged and lifted her chin, answering Narcissa with a silent, stubborn look. The Slytherin was once again amazed how she didn't distinguish so familiar features in the Hufflepuff before, she was an exact copy of her deceased grandfather.