Gunpowder Treason and Plot

As Lucius guided the ladies around the festival goers to the edge of the crowd, Narcissa held tight to her little niece’s hand. She wasn’t afraid of losing Aurora in the crowd, but more than the little witch would see something exciting and run off. She had very little impulse control, no doubt due to her father’s inability to properly parent his child. By Aurora’s age, Narcissa and her sisters would sit comfortably for nearly an hour, listening respectfully to a storyteller or musician. They spoke when spoken to and always used proper manners, and of course their curtsey was flawless. Aurora, on the other hand, seemed to like to speak out whenever silence lapsed for more than a few seconds, seeking attention from anyone who would give it to her. She often screamed for whatever she wanted and Merlin forbid the child ever be told no. She was a little princess, to be sure, but certainly not a well-mannered princess worthy of her mother’s surname. Cissa was certain the little witch could catch up in her deportment lessons if Rodolphus would only set some basic boundaries with her. There was only so much she could do during her rare, though admittedly increasingly more frequent visits.

“I can’t see anything!” Aurora was whinning, tugging her auntie’s and uncle’s arms like a monkey swinging from a vine.

“There’s nothing to see yet, love.” Narcissa knelt down beside her niece and gestured up into the sky. “When the fireworks start, they’ll be way up there. You’ll have the perfect view. And if it gets too crowded you can ask Uncle Luci to sit on his shoulders.” She whispered the last bit as if it were a fun little secret just between the two of them, to which Aurora smiled and clapped her hands. “How about we get you a sparkler?” she offered in the meantime. Aurora hopped up and down excitedly. “Darling,” Cissa looked up from her squatted position to her handsome husband, the soft glow of the sunset at his back making him look absolutely heavenly. “Lovey wants a sparkler to play with. Do you mind?”

Cissa stared lovingly at her husband’s backside until he disappeared into the crowd, off to find something for their niece to entertain herself with until the fireworks started. He would be an amazing father, if given the chance. He was already an amazing husband, so doting and caring. His efforts were considerably amplified during each of her short-lived pregnancies, each time growing more in his efforts. He had remained faithfully hers while she wallowed in self-loathing and anguish after losing Carina, coming to her every day to remind Narcissa that she was loved, that it would get better someday. He had stood at her side at Bellatrix’s funeral, allowing her to unceremoniously sob on his shoulder as he comforted her the best he could. He was loving and patient and understanding, everything a perfect father needed to be.

Cissa pressed her hand lightly to her stomach as she silently prayed she could give Lucius the one thing missing from his life, but her thoughts were interrupted almost as soon as they’d begun by an adorable little six year old who was now oohing at a juggler walking by, followed by a dog with a basket tied to its collar asking for tips. “Doggie! Auntie Cissy, may I pet the doggie?” the little witch asked excitedly.

Narcissa, still kneeling down to the child’s height, turned her head and followed Aurora’s gaze a short distance to the wandering performer and his begging canine companion. Her initial reaction was one of disgust. Petting a strange dog? A street performer’s dog at that. They were probably homeless, most definitely poor, and possibly not well groomed. The idea of Aurora touching such filth made Cissa turn her nose up, but the little girl had asked politely and without attempting to dash off on her own. Good behavior needed to be rewarded. 

“He’s working, dumpling. You have to give him money first, then just a quick pet.” Narcissa stood and unclasped her handbag, looking for her coin purse and pulling a single knut from it. “Here you are. Put it in his basket.” She moved a few steps forward, keeping Aurora close as the child dropped the coin into the dog’s collar basket and then began patting him roughly on the head, rubbing between his ears and laughing at the fun she was having.

The juggler thanked her and Narcissa avoided making eye contact with him. “Alright, love, let’s go wash your hands now,” she said to Aurora, though close enough to the juggler to be overheard.

Ushering Aurora quickly to the nearby public toilets, Aurora complained. “But I’m not dirty,” she whined.

“That dog looked dirty, and you don’t know where he’d been. You don’t want to catch something, do you? We’d have to miss the fireworks if you became ill.” They wouldn’t. Barring some strange new fast-acting disease, if Aurora did catch something from the mut, they wouldn’t know it before the display began but this was easier to explain to a child her age and it effectively halted the whining from the little brunette. Cissa stood at the door as Aurora washed her hands and when the six-year-old’s technique wasn’t up to par for the regal witch, Cissa helped her niece to wash more thoroughly. Hands dried and hopefully free from any fleas or other unpleasant things the dog might have been carrying, the witches strolled back toward the edge of the crowd where Lucius had left them.

“The fireworks should be starting soon, love. And Uncle Luci will have your sparkler to play with.” Cissa looked down at the little girl, her pretty brow furrowed ever so slightly as she spoke words that only hinted at one of her bigger worries. “Are you having fun, lovey?” What she really wanted to know, though there was no sane way to ask, nor no way for a six-year-old to be able to respond with anything remotely insightful, was if she was a good auntie, and by extension would she be a good mother. The first hurdle in answering that question was the one that had been too difficult for them to overcome thus far – actually having a child of their own. However slim their chances were now with this new pregnancy, the opportunity was there to finally have a go at being a parent but Cissa remained hopefully realistic. It might never happen for them, and while she’d not yet spoken to Lucius about their plans should she lose this child too, Narcissa knew this would be their last attempt. One way or the other, there would be no more pregnancies for Narcissa Malfoy.

“Feck yeah,” Aurora answered enthusiastically, causing Narcissa to stop dead in her tracks despite not pronouncing the vulgar word correctly. It was clear what the child was trying to say.

“Aurora, where do you learn that word?” she asked in a gently scolding tone, looking down on the girl from her standing position.

Aurora looked up, confused. “Daddy says it,” she answered honestly.

Of course he does. Narcissa knelt down beside the little girl, her voice softer than it had been a moment ago. “Ladies don’t use language like that, sweetheart. You’re a proper little lady, aren’t you?” Aurora nodded. “Good. Your mummy wouldn’t want you saying that word. Only men and daft women say that.” And vulgar pricks like Rodolphus, but Narcissa kept that thought to herself. They were nearly back to their original spot on the lawn, and Narcissa took Aurora’s had and guided her back, hoping a sparkler would distract the girl enough into thinking she was still having a good time.

Whatever worries Narcissa held about Aurora enjoying her time with her auntie and uncle after being scolded for using profanity quickly subsided as Lucius appeared among the crowd, holding two unexpected sticks of candy floss. She smiled sweetly at her husband, but the smile broadened as her eyes turned to watch the excited little witch bounce up and down on the balls of her feet and squeal with excitement over the treat her uncle had brought for her. Narcissa had the same thought as Lucius, that there would be little sleeping done by the child tonight but perhaps that was okay. They would spend some quality time together as a family, time Narcissa had neglected in the past and which was well due, and perhaps Aurora would learn a thing or two about acting like a proper lady. “You’re too perfect,” Narcissa cooed in her husband’s ear as he handed her a stick of candy floss for them to share. She pressed her lips to his cheek, careful not to smear her lipstick on him.

The treat was enough to keep Aurora entertained for a few moments of near silence as Narcissa rested her head on Lucius’ shoulder and held the candy floss between them so that they could pick at it. It was incredibly sweet and Narcissa was sure she’d grow sick of it shortly, having a refined pallet that did not often indulge in such items, but it was delicious, and she ate far more than she had expected of herself. Aurora had long since finished with her own candy floss, eating about half of it before asking if her auntie would hold it for her, and was now running around in circles making shapes in the air with the sparklers she held in each hand. “I want one,” she said softly to her husband, her eyes still fixed on Aurora as she laughed and ran around playfully. There was a change in her voice that hinted she was not talking about a sparkler or candy floss or any other item that could be purchased from any of the stalls at tonight’s festival. They were pregnant but they both knew from far too much experience that pregnancy did not mean they would have a child in the end. A burst of light calmed the crowd and heads turned upwards to see the first of the fireworks display beginning. While everyone else’s eyes were fixed on the sky, Narcissa instead watched her niece’s face light up with wonder at the beautiful spectacle of lights.

Having been holding both candy floss sticks, Narcissa had surprised herself by finishing at least half of each. She did not typically possess a sweet tooth but experiencing the childlike wonder of Bonfire night through her niece’s eyes had perhaps awoken a merriment and lightness inside of her that had slowly been dying with each traumatic development in their lives. Or perhaps this was the beginning of a wholly unhealthy pregnancy craving that would challenge Narcissa severely. At the moment her stomach was mostly flat, only the hint of a belly beginning if you knew to look for it but nine months of eating sweets would certainly result in her swelling up like a balloon. If she made it nine months. If she even made it half that far. Every happy thought seemed to be tainted by mental reminders that she might never know what it means to be a mum and with each reminder she plucked off a wisp of candy floss and popped it into her mouth, starting the cycle all over again.

Soon enough Lucius was holding Aurora and the little witch was drooling on his coat sleeve as she dreamed of sweets and fireworks. Lucius smiled and prompted their trip home. Narcissa smiled in return, soaking in the sight of a beautiful babe in her husband’s perfect arms. She kissed the back of Aurora’s head, her dark curls so much like her mother’s, and then nodded. The journey home was quick enough and although there was a moment when Aurora had awoken in the carriage and looked around with blurried eyes asking where they were, she was snoring gently again by the time they arrived at Malfoy Manor. Cissa walked lightly behind her husband, watching as he laid Aurora into the bed they had made up for her and tucked her in snuggly. Her father had sent a stuffed dragon with her earlier and Aurora clung to the ratty thing as she curled into the warmth of the blankets and drifted back to dreamland. Narcissa watched her niece sleeping for a few moments, not aware that she was pressing her palm gently to her belly and stroking it in a loving, absentminded fashion.

"I think she had fun," Narcissa whispered as they sneaked out of the room and gently shut the door behind them. “I know I did. Perhaps too much fun. My feet are killing me.” Having had so much previous practice in the early weeks and months of pregnancy, Narcissa’s body was quickly adjusting to her current state in preparation for a day that might never arrive. Her feet were already showing signs of swelling and her trim stomach was beginning to stretch. The marks around her breasts were growing darker and already she was finding she needed to enhance the cup size of her brassieres in order for them to fit more comfortably under her blouses.