Hey, Soul Sister [Lucius/Narcissa]

Chapter Four

Lucius held open the door to the Prefects' carriage and nodded to Narcissa, who stepped inside with a word of thanks and settled into her seat. He watched her for a moment—a moment too long, perhaps, he thought as he shook his head and moved into the carriage, hoping she hadn't noticed—and wondered exactly what he'd done to deserve the companionship and respect of someone like her. Even in the face of her parents' absurd demands and manipulations, Narcissa remained composed, or at least vastly more so than Lucius believed he would have, in a similar situation. He'd never known her to be confrontational. She was always patient, enduring more than he thought she should and only rarely striking back. When she did, though, she could be dangerous.

He'd seen her preparing to use magic against Rowle, and in all honesty, he'd almost looked the other way. He'd seen enough of what had been happening in the moments leading up to that one to want to attack Rowle himself, and he'd been curious to see what creative decision Narcissa would've made as far as hexing the prat. However, Thorfinn Rowle was one of the coldest, most vengeful people Lucius had ever had the misfortune of working with, and on the off-chance Narcissa didn't find a way out of her parents' plan, Lucius hadn't wanted to give Thorfinn a reason to direct that side of his personality toward her. He'd intervened, and now, hopefully, Rowle's rage would be focused on Lucius, who knew to be on his guard in case Rowle let a curse slip in his direction on their next task for the Dark Lord. Rowle had done as much to Nickolas Crabbe after the boy had insulted him one too many times.

Lucius exchanged glances with Dorcas Meadowes, who nodded, gestured to one of the young Ravenclaw Prefects, and led her out the door to take over rounds throughout the train. Lucius slipped through the crowded compartment and dropped into the vacant seat beside Gabriel Travers in the row across the aisle from where Narcissa sat reading.

She deserves better, he thought.

He looked away, directing his focus out the train window as the countryside whipped past, drenched in the orange light of sunset. He needed to find something else to focus on. The longer he thought about the injustice of what Narcissa was going through, the angrier it made him, and he knew it was none of his business. He needed to let her handle it how she saw fit.

But she shouldn't have to deal with it at all.

Lucius sighed under his breath, nearly as frustrated with himself as he was with the situation. Why couldn't he let it go? He told himself it was a matter of principle—that he would've been just as agitated if any of his other friends were going through something so unfair. He couldn't deny, though, that things had always been different with her. Walden, Augustus, the rest of Lucius's friends... they invited danger and conflict and often embraced it. Lucius knew he would be lying to say that they didn't at times deserve it, himself included. At seventeen, he'd already done quite a few things he wasn't proud of in order to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. How many of his peers, he wondered as he watched trees fly past him on the other side of the glass, had already used two of the three Unforgivable Curses? Lucius had, and if the boy sitting beside him followed through with his plan to join the Death Eaters, he soon wouldn't be the only one even among the school's Prefects.

He found himself in a precarious position, returning to Hogwarts while the war was beginning to gain momentum. He believed he was prepared to face whatever that might mean, and he hoped the others were, as well. Narcissa, though... she should have been safe. She'd never agreed to fight, and she'd never harmed anyone, to Lucius's knowledge. Whatever he might've earned in penance for his decisions, she hadn't. She was innocent, and he couldn't stand the thought of her being forced to wed someone who not only prized innocence roughly as highly as he would a ruined bit of parchment but often actively sought to destroy it.