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The Black family Wardrobe had once been a muggle chapel. It was a large, circular room, with a tiled floor and a domed ceiling, through which sunlight filtered from an opening in the centre. Narcissa loved to see that shaft of sunlight sifting through the dust, glancing off the satin, filtering through the lace, and warming the heavy velvet. This place felt like home, in a way that her town-house in Diagon Alley – bristling as it was with unspoken grudges and the thin, almost unbreathable, air of respectability – had never managed.

The clothes were hung in racks around the walls – hundreds of dresses on hangers in rainbow-shades, suggesting a world of beauty, but showing nothing but the odd, tantalizing flash of sleeve or skirt, in satin, silk, taffeta and lace.  

This place was her cathedral. In a polite, insipid way, visitors were always shocked to learn that the place had once been a muggle chapel. But, to Narcissa, it had never seemed like a disrespectful gesture. You showed disdain for a person’s culture by turning their holy places into privies or garbage dumps. If anything, this building was receiving too much honour from its current use. There was nothing more spiritual, to Narcissa, than a room full of mirrors and lace.  

She would be having a new dress made for the wedding, of course. This visit was simply for inspiration. Narcissa wanted to see how her grand female ancestors had dressed on their wedding-days. There was a backlog of wedding dresses here extending over almost a thousand years. The fabric had been carefully preserved with damp-repelling and fire-proofing charms.  

Some of these dresses were over fifty-percent mineral in any case. They were so heavily embroidered with diamonds and pearls that the fabric had been mere ornamentation. They were like suits of glittery armour. And, in a way, they were. The women of the Black family had never been allowed to distinguish themselves in battle – that kind of thing was unseemly for a well-brought-up girl – but they were permitted to distinguish or disgrace themselves by their choice of husband. And Narcissa prided herself on the fact that she was bringing honour to her family with her choice. If weddings were wars, then this one would be like Trafalagar or Agincourt.  

This wedding would make a public statement. Even the most shameless mudblood would despair when they saw Narcissa in her wedding-dress. If that was what pure-blood looked like, then everyone was going to yearn for it – everyone was going to respect it. Anyone of base-blood would be filled with instant self-loathing. They would shuffle off into the shadows and stop shouting so vulgarly about their rights. What kind of rights did ugly, unwashed things have when they stood before the radiant spectacle that was Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy?  

She walked around the room, relishing the sound of her feet on the tiles, drinking up the sacred stillness. She loved this place. It always soothed her. The quality of the silence here was unlike anything she had ever heard before. There was a quietness that came from the aftermath of intense emotion, and this place was ringing with it.

All those brides, glowing in their dresses, bristling with anticipation at the life that was ahead of them – their heads must have been buzzing with so many thoughts that Narcissa could almost taste them.

She felt restless, and she couldn’t understand it. She was marrying a rich, handsome, well-spoken pure-blood. Over and above that, she was marrying a man she loved – which she had never expected to do. That was a luxury she’d never dreamed of. But she felt as though she was approaching a dead end, a brick wall. She had been pouring all her energy and creativity into this wedding for so long. Instead of devising potions and cosmetics, she was devising colour-schemes and seating-plans.

And, when it was over, she was going to be… well, she was going to be Mrs Narcissa Malfoy, the most gloriously influential pure-blood in the world. But what would she – what could she – do with that honour? Where was the scope for her creativity? Who could she charm or manipulate? How could she experiment? When you were a respectable pillar of the pure-blood community, surely you had to behave.

Narcissa turned at the sound of rustling satin, and sighed wearily. Regulus was leaning against a priceless Regency-period empire-line dress. She shuddered to think of the creases.  

He was the only thing making the room look untidy, and this wasn’t because nature – or, as Narcissa preferred to think of it, blood – had been unkind to him. He was a very handsome boy.  But he seemed to have an instinct for untidiness. He sprawled, for one thing. She had never seen him sitting up straight, or tucking in his elbows. It was the same confidence his brother, Sirius, radiated, but it seemed wrong, somehow, in Regulus. Too fervent, too dark. And he was always twirling his wand between his fingers, with the kind of nervous energy that set Narcissa’s teeth on edge.

To make matters worse, he’d taken to swigging expensive, brain-dissolving potions recently. He was currently sipping a Draught of Peace (and sipping was a good idea with a Draught of Peace because the potion simply knocked you unconscious if drunk in gulps). It calmed you, but it didn’t seem to be having much of an effect on Regulus. It simply made his nervous energy more concentrated.  

“Something’s not right,” she muttered absent-mindedly, casting her eye over the racks of dresses. For the first time, her ancestors, who had always been a source of inspiration, were failing her. “There’s nothing here suitable for a Malfoy.”

Regulus shrugged cheerfully. “You’re getting very worked-up about this wedding, ‘Cissa,” he muttered. “Why don’t you try some of this?”

He offered her the bottle, but Narcissa drew back from it in horror. “Regulus! We’re not here to have fun!”

“Well, what’s the big deal?” he demanded, chuckling. “You get married. You wear a white dress, everybody looks at you, everybody goes home.

“It’s my only chance,” she protested. “I’m only going to get married once - ,”

“Says you.”

“- And,” she continued severely, ignoring the interruption, “I want to make sure it’s something I remember for the rest of my life. And something other people remember for the rest of their lives.”

Regulus just raised his eyebrows, and she went back to browsing the racks of ancient dresses, glad to have shut him up.

“I don’t feel…” She hesitated. It was against her instincts to share, but Regulus didn’t seem as though he’d be in any fit state to remember what she’d said tomorrow. “I don’t feel right about it. He’s perfect, and obviously I love him, but there’s something… missing.”  

“You’re a Slytherin,” said Regulus simply. “There’s no greater tragedy, for a Slytherin, than getting exactly what you want. Remember Salazar Slytherin’s motto: ‘An ending is never a happy one’?”

“We’re not talking about some kind of ignominious retirement,” said Narcissa hotly. “I won’t be given a watch and a party and then left in an old people’s home. I will be Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy. The whole of the wizard world will look up to me.”

“And what will they see you doing when they look up to you, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy?”

Narcissa faltered. “I will be… pulling strings behind the scenes.”

“Strings?”

“Yes, strings,” she repeated defiantly. “I will be charming. I will be in the confidence of important people. I will be gathering followers for the Dark Lord.”

“Hosting coffee mornings for Ministers’ wives?”

Narcissa pulled out her wand. She was not, by nature, an impulsive woman. She never, ever jinxed fellow students in the corridors, and not simply because she didn’t want her name mentioned in the same sentence as theirs. She preferred to work in slow, subtle ways. She preferred to use potions and suggestions and smiles. But, just at this moment, she was feeling powerless, and deeply insulted, and poisoning Regulus wouldn’t make him sorry quickly enough.   

“And what is wrong with that?” she asked in a slow, deadly voice.

Regulus shrugged innocently. “Nothing, if it’s what you want to do with the rest of your life.”

Narcissa lowered her wand, breathing rather heavily, and he went on.

“Well, at least you won’t be baking and tidying, like your mum. You’ll be too rich for that. But I still reckon you’ll be bored.”

The wand snapped upwards again. Narcissa held it out until the tip was touching his nose. Her teeth were bared.

“My mother came from an unbroken line of great witches and wizards,” she snarled.  

“I suppose that entitles her to live like a muggle house-wife.”

“Everything she does is for the honour of the family!” Narcissa yelled.

“The family doesn’t care about any of us!” Regulus shouted. He was suddenly angry, and that knocked Narcissa off her stride. Still, she gave him a look of outrage, as though he’d just slapped her round the face.

“How can you say that?”  

Regulus glanced over his shoulder, licked his lips, and then went on, in a barely-audible mutter: “They lied to us, ‘Cissa. They told you everything would be alright if you just married a rich, pure-blooded husband and had rich, pure-blooded children, but that’s just what makes them look good. They don’t care about us. They told me everything would be alright if I joined the Dark Lor - ,”

“You are not saying that!” Narcissa hissed, holding up a hand to cut him off. “Shut up, shut up!”

But Regulus wasn’t going to give up. He’d already leapt off the cliff-top of prudence. He’d already committed verbal suicide. He looked like a man who just didn’t care what happened to him anymore.

“’Cissa, the muggles have souls,” he muttered urgently. “They’re just like us -,”

“Silencio!” she shouted, and Regulus was abruptly cut off. His lips moved uselessly for a few seconds, and then he gave up. It was hideous to watch. His shoulders slumped, as though he’d given one final Black-family shrug, and then he lapsed into stillness. It was the stillness of complete and utter defeat. Narcissa had never seen a member of the Black family give in like that – except her mother. And, even in her terror, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

“You’re ill, Regulus,” she whispered pleadingly. “You’ve been ill ever since you got hit on the head with that statue. But we’ll make you better. I’ve got Severus Snape on my side now. You’ve seen the kind of things he can do. I’ll get him to make you a potion. I’m sure he’s read about cases like yours. Just don’t say anything like that ever again. Please?”

Regulus didn’t say anything, of course. But he didn’t shrug, or grin, or twirl his wand between his fingers either. He just gazed at the floor, with that slightly unfocused look which she had grown to associate with the moments when he barked out proverbs. He seemed to be examining her shadow.  

He left without a backward glance or a parting word (although she supposed the latter was not really surprising). Narcissa waited until the sacred silence of the Wardrobe had closed over his retreating footsteps, and then she opened her hand. She could feel Claudia Black’s sharp eyes staring up at her from the miniature portrait she kept concealed in her palm.

“Distance yourself from him,” Narcissa’s grandmother commanded. “Slowly. Don’t denounce him to the Dark Lord. He may still prove useful.”

Narcissa nodded, but her eyes lingered on the doorway, just the same. What he’d said was true – well, the less insane parts of it, anyway. She had always been told that it was her job to make a respectable, pure-blood marriage. And then she could run the wizard world from a position of irreproachable virtue, as a pillar of the community, as a mother of pure-blood children.

But her grandmother had never explained what running the world from behind the scenes would actually entail. For a brilliant woman like Claudia Black, it had probably been easy. Authority just poured out of her. She’d been a celebrity even in her own lifetime – and not just because of her string of mysteriously poisoned husbands.

But Narcissa couldn’t escape the feeling that she was being… tidied away.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be like Bella. She shuddered whenever Bella said indelicate things, or hexed important people just because they wouldn’t give her what she wanted. It didn’t look good, behaving like that. But Bella was, at least, free. Rodolphus would never dream of asking her not to join the Death Eaters.

And she couldn’t help thinking about the night she’d spent on Azkaban. That night was still sending shock-waves through Narcissa’s life. And, because she was a careful, thorough, cautious kind of girl – because she took her time over things – she was still trying to work out how she felt about it.

There was the after-taste of the fear. That tasted of blood because she couldn’t separate it, in her memory, from the moment when Voldemort had been tearing so forcibly through her head that it had made her nose bleed.

But, apart from the terror and the taste of blood, there had been something she enjoyed: a kind of desperate pride. Lucius had used her and abandoned her. She had already secured a husband, and it didn’t make her feel as powerful as she thought it would. Suddenly, she had a problem that beauty simply wouldn’t solve. She had to use her head.

How exciting it had been, when Voldemort had gazed into her eyes and riffled through the pages of her head. It was a gaze that didn’t stop at her flawless, porcelain skin or her thin, painted lips. Finally someone was looking through her, rather than at her.

Finally, she had something beneath the surface to use.

But Lucius didn’t want her to join the Death Eaters. It would be too dangerous, he’d said. And, besides, how could he concentrate on battles and espionage when her pretty face was constantly beside him?

In a way, he was an idealist. He didn’t like the fact that they had to torture muggles. He didn’t enjoy anything about the process. It was simply a necessary way of keeping their numbers down. He didn’t want Narcissa to be a part of it. The whole point was that he wanted to keep the world pure for her. It wouldn’t work if she was getting her hands dirty as part of the cleansing process.

And he wanted something pure to come home to. She couldn’t blame him for that. He wanted her as a refuge from all that savagery. He was so disgusted by the outside world, it made perfect sense that he would want a respectable woman to come home to. A woman who was free from the taint of all those Death Eater orgies and scenes of muggle torture – which, while being, in Narcissa’s mind, perfectly justified, were still rather untidy.   

But Narcissa didn’t want to be a sanctuary. They were wonderful places to escape to, but if they couldn’t be escaped from, they were just prisons.

She had fought beside the Dark Lord. She had managed to conceal the truth from him. She had enthralled every man in the school, with the mysterious exception of Severus Snape.  Perhaps she was not as brilliant as her grandmother, but she wasn’t stupid either. She did not intend to rest on her laurels as soon as she was married – even if her laurels were gold-plated or velvet-lined.

She wanted to distinguish the name of Malfoy. Lucius would never understand that it was love which made her disobey him. He would be proud of her, in the end, when she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Dark Lord – as proud of her as she was proud of him.

She was a Slytherin, after all. Ambition was endemic to her nature. It was written on her heart. You couldn’t just step down once you’d got everything you wanted. Where would the magical world be if, every time a wizard had got somewhere, he had rested on his laurels and sipped mulled mead like Professor Slughorn? Well, it would be where it was now, she reflected – overrun with muggles.

That was the problem. Wizards were too easily satisfied. They wanted peace and comfort, when they could have supremacy and dominance.

But it wasn’t ambition for ambition’s sake anymore. It was ambition for Lucius. She wanted to be everything she could be for him. He wouldn’t understand that, even though he was a Slytherin himself, so she supposed it would have to be a secret – maybe even a secret from her grandmother.

But perhaps she could call in the favour she was owed by Severus Snape.
Continuing from (although not really related to) Happily Ever After [link]
I've been promising a Narcissa and/or Lucius chapter for months and months to :iconflameofthewest7: so this is dedicated to her, with apologies for its lateness!
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:iconwearesevenstudios:
WeAreSevenStudios Featured By Owner May 21, 2010  Professional Artisan Crafter
He seemed to be examining her shadow.
I love knowing something a character doesn't.

Favorite lines:
But Narcissa didn’t want to be a sanctuary. They were wonderful places to escape to, but if they couldn’t be escaped from, they were just prisons.

That was the problem. Wizards were too easily satisfied. They wanted peace and comfort, when they could have supremacy and dominance

Regardless of how the main story turns out, I can't help but hope Regulus gets a non-canon ending. I *always* hope that for Regulus. With Snape, I can take some comfort in his beautiful tragedy, but Regulus has always seemed like a dear lil' boy who got whisked into a war, made an incredibly brave--though unknown--stand against Voldemort, and never even had posthumous glory out of it. :(
Plus, your Regulus is so lovable!
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner May 22, 2010
Oh, I know, poor Regulus! His canon fate was even lonelier than Snape's, and it remained undiscovered for so long. :( Hopefully, Harry publicized his amazing sacrifice after the war. Maybe he's even on a chocolate frog card as a famous wizard now! :heart:
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:iconwearesevenstudios:
WeAreSevenStudios Featured By Owner May 23, 2010  Professional Artisan Crafter
:dance: I'd like to think of "Brave Master Regulus" on a chocolate frog card.
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:icondronarron:
dronarron Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2009
What kind of rights did ugly, unwashed things have when they stood before the radiant spectacle that was Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy?

I love this glimpse into her privileged attitude. Naive, too -- most influential in the world, Narcissa? Really? The world's an awfully big place where many have never heard of Voldemort, never mind Malfoy, except perhaps as a footnote in all that is weird "over there in Europe". ;)

It was the same confidence his brother, Sirius, radiated, but it seemed wrong, somehow, in Regulus. Too fervent, too dark.

Mmm, yes, quite...

She had enthralled every man in the school, with the mysterious exception of Severus Snape.

*chuckles*
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2009
:giggle: Yes, Narcissa is naive here! It's kind of a feature of pure-bloods that they think they're the centre of the universe! ;)
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:iconvizen:
Vizen Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2009
I've already said it, but I'm not afraid of repeating myself - I love your Reg. He's very living and interesting. Well, of course, we can only love the canon Reg - what we know of him... But still, this one is just a delight.

You would have enjoyed a french fic I always recommend, in which Regulus is very interesting as well. Because in canon he's associated with the dead, as an inferius and because of the Horcrux, the author made of him someone who had sometimes visions of dead people, and -afraid of it, wanting to understand and tame this situation- start to be interested in necromancy and using dark arts. His problem is that, in contact with the world of dead, he loses his own life and control on his power and existence, slightly feeling how much he is tragically drawn to death, trying to escape from a dimension that only he can see, helpless because in the same time attracted to it. He's also someone deeply innocent in heart, who would like purety and fair world but cannot fight, darkness finally surrending him. I really think you would enjoy this Regulus, who reminds me of yours - with the same kind of originality, of special loneliness, lost and housed at the same time in his transes, standing apart from the other living people.

Thanks for the chapter - Slytherins are always so interesting....'An ending is never a happy one’... Excellent... My respects!
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2009
Wow, I'd really like to read that fanfic! It sounds very sad, of course, but very interesting! Is it written in French? It would take me a long time, but I might be able to read it in French. I've started reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in French but, knowing it off-by-heart in English, I have an unfair advantage. I know what it must say because I know what it's supposed to say, if that makes sense! :)
I love Regulus too! He's always so cheerful in his despair! Quite the opposite of Severus, and yet they have so much in common in other ways!
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:iconvizen:
Vizen Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2009
It's 'Azkaban Break' by Colibri Vert [link]
I'm afraid it would be very long for you, but you should really try, just for practicing... It's a very popular and good fic, many french HP fans read it. In this fic all the characters are absolutely interesting and the plot and writing are very good. Regulus is the main character, but Severus is there all the time too - a very canon Severus, ambiguous, Slytherin, scathing, absolutely delectable.

It starts with Severus visiting Regulus in Azkaban. Just try to read a little bit then :) - really, Regulus is super-interesting there.

Reading your favourite books in a foreign language is very good. I did it a few times, it helps a lot. Reading fanfic is also very motivating - this is why I start reading in english - a fic was translated in french, but not entirely, and then I had to read the end of it in english... And then I understood I was able to understand it!!! And after the fics, I was not afraid anymore of reading DH at its release - in english. I even haven't read it in french yet (the translation seemed flat after the original version, and I'm not ready for it yet -too emotional I am about it)
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:icondronarron:
dronarron Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2009
Reading your favourite books in a foreign language is very good.

I was surprised how well I did when I sampled the Spanish version of Philosopher's Stone. I had four years of Spanish in school in which I got excellent marks, sure, but this was um... fourteen years ago... so it's been helped a bit by working alongside Spanish-speaking people at work, but really it's amazing I remember any of it. :)
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2009
Je l'aime beaucoup! :) C'est tres utile pour moi, mais, malheuresement, je ne comprends pas touts les mots!
J'aime que cette histoire commence avec Severus!
(I think I will have to read this with a dictionary open on my lap! But thank you for linking me to it. I really think it will help improve my French. I do have a tendency to lose interest in things if they're not Harry Potter related... ;))
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:iconvizen:
Vizen Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2009
Try a little bit further then... It's long, but by little steps you can read, etc... Don't try to understand every word.... but maybe you need some help for the translation of the HP special lexicon (the important ones are : Severus Snape is Severus Rogue, and Slytherin is Serpentard...)

It's a captiving fic, the kind of ones I think you'd really like, really :)
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:iconflameofthewest7:
FlameoftheWest7 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
Thank you so much for the dedication; I'm so honored! :D And what a chapter--I knew you wouldn't disappoint!

Oh, how I love to see Narcissa in her element...standing supreme in a place of worship, surrounded by mirrors, jewels, and priceless vintage couture, gaining undying admiration from the ghosts of fashionistas past! I adore the description of the Wardrobe. You don't know how traumatized I am, to hear that it will burn!

I like the progression of Narcissa's character in this chapter. Her vanity is a source of constant amusement to me (Even the most shameless mudblood would despair when they saw Narcissa in her wedding dress); but I also really connect with the way her mind works. Your Cissa's thoughts and insights are the result of much introspection--as you say, she is not impulsive, but someone who lets things mull and simmer, adding the right balance of ingredients before she acts.
I too, have wondered what Narcissa does in her spare time, but I daresay she'll find out soon enough that life with Lucius is pretty exciting. (I imagine she'll be teaching him a lot about "charm", to keep him out of trouble with the Dark Lord!)

Your description of Lucius as an idealist is very apt. We know his reasons for joining Voldemort had to be more complex than Bella's, for instance; instead of joining her in Azkaban, Lucius is the very first to renounce Voldemort after his downfall. I think he is also the most scheming opportunist Slytherin House has to offer (aside from Severus), which makes him so interesting to read/write about!

Oh, and THANK YOU for having Regulus call her "Cissa". In my opinion, nobody but her sisters would call her "Cissy," (which I think she would dislike), but I doubt if anyone, even Narcissa Black, could stop older siblings from doing exactly as they pleased!

Much love,
Flame

P.S. I think sometime a while back you had talked about writing a wedding chapter. I actually have one on my mind, too! It will probably take me a while to churn it out, even though I have the story mapped out and the first part written (I also am a "simmerer" :) ), but I'm really looking forward to seeing what we both come up with!
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2009
:dance: Yay! I'm so glad you liked the chapter! Thank you for your comments, I'll be really looking forward to seeing your wedding chapter! Hope Bellatrix will be forced to wear a girly pink bridesmaid's dress! ;)
I love Narcissa's careful, introspective nature too. In many ways, what she has to do for the family honour - marry a rich pure-blood and have children - seems very oppressive, but she's such a tireless schemer that she always finds a way to carve a position of power out of it! That absolute refusal to be powerless is really admirable to me!
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:iconmelorik:
Melorik Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
Oh boy,

I'm really liking Regulus in this. You should have him meet some Russians from Durmstrang. They could introduce him to the sort of drink that would make him incredibly brave (and incredibly stupid) in very short order :D.

I wonder if he'll burn down this whole chapel of pureblood supremacy in a righteous drunken stupor.

Look forward to more,

Sam
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
Oooh, that's a thought: an inter-school drinking contest! That would be fun! Especially if Severus was there, with his sarcastic comments getting increasingly slurred as the night went on!
I'm glad you like Regulus. I have a soft spot for him too. He's a tortured soul, but such a cheerful one! :)
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:iconmelorik:
Melorik Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
lol,

well speaking from my experience as a Russian... I'd be very careful when giving Snape any such booze. The loosening of inhibitions is dangerous enough in normal people let alone him :p.

Sev: *groan*.. what in merlin's name happened last night?

DD: Ahh Severus. It's so nice to see our new peace ambassador up and about.

Sev: Huh?!

DD: Yes. It was mighty brave of you to declare your love for all living things, and pledge your undying loyalty to redheads everywhere. :D

Sev: :dead:

... either that or him and reg would start a bar fight against Potter and Sirius. :D
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2009
:rofl: Well, now you've really made me want to write him drunk! I'd love to see him as the ambassador for peace and love and the defender of all red-heads (with the exception of Ron Weasley, I suppose!) :)
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:iconmelorik:
Melorik Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2009
Ha, I think all Weasley's would be excluded if Severus had anything to say about it :p.

But on a serious note, I've been thinking that drunkeness, especially if it is used sparingly, is an excellent plot device to have something happen between characters that otherwise wouldn't.

We know that Sev is very paranoid about telling Lily the nature of what he does (along with the pressure that goes with it). In a drunken stupor however, that could go right out the window.

I can just imagine him, innebriated, depressed and self loathing. And amidst all that, he mockingly boasts to Lily about how he's "the greatest liar in the world"... so good that not even Voldemort can tell. This is doubly so because if he's still so young he's probably never consumed vast quantities of booze yet, so his body probably wouldn't have much of a tolerance to it either. Alot of what he's pent up might just pour right out.

Even crazier, Lily and Sev telling things to EACH OTHER, that they normally never would due to inhibitions. Ahh the wonders of the drink ;)

Ok.. end of muse :D

Cheers,

Sam
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2009
That's a very interesting idea! I love the thought of Sev losing his inhibitions (it would be a kind of anti-Occlumency state that loosened his tongue and made him all emotional!) As a possibility, that would horrify him, so Lily would have to spike his pumpkin juice! ;) But that's definitely something I'd like to see! :)
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:iconmelorik:
Melorik Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2009
heh, or Regulus could slip him some as a 'gift' to help his relationship with Lily.... it would be a Regulus thing to do :D.

... that or Sev might be so depressed that he just drinks it to pass right out. After all, occlumency keeps you from feeling anything.. but alcohol can make you feel good.. at least until you wake up :P.

I'd love to see something like that happen. Lily would be gobsmacked (for lack of a better word) :)
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2009
I'll see what I can do! It's certainly an interesting idea. I'd love to investigate the cocktail of alcohol and sarcasm that would be a drunk Severus Snape! :) He may not get to hang out with Lily for a couple of chapters now, though, because she's about to get very angry with him, but perhaps he could approach her whilst drunk and try to apologize! That would definitely be an ice-breaker!
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(1 Reply)
:iconnorthangel27:
northangel27 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I liked it. And I really liked your Regulus unplugged in this chapter. Poor boy. You can see all the pressure starting to take its toll. He's too damn young to be pulled in with that lot, but I doubt his parents cared. It was all for the honor of the family, and all that, and Regulus was the 'good son' after all, always trying to please the family. I can't help but grieve for him.
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
I know, I feel sorry for Regulus too! Sirius has already disgraced the family - he probably thinks that one more Black family rebel would kill his mother! But, once you start to see muggles as human beings, I suppose there's no going back. He's just biding his time with brain-rotting potions until he absolutely has to rebel!
I'm so glad you liked the chapter, I wasn't really sure about it. Sometimes I think the pure-blood chapters get a bit too heavily descriptive. Still, I wanted to describe the Black family Wardrobe because I'm planning to burn it down later! :)
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:iconnorthangel27:
northangel27 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009  Hobbyist Digital Artist
0_o as a fashion lover, especially vintage fashion, the thought of that breaks my heart ;-).
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
:giggle: It seems sacrilegious to me too! I think the arsonist's intention will be to break Narcissa's heart, since she loves the place so much!
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:iconnorthangel27:
northangel27 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009  Hobbyist Digital Artist
How horrible. Now you've got me guessing at who the arsonist could be. I have a couple of theories. Don't tell me, though. I want to be surprised :-).
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
OK, I won't give anything away. All will be revealed, if I can only drag myself away from the TV for long enough to start writing! Am so lazy on weekends! ;)
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:iconnorthangel27:
northangel27 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I'm lazy too. I keep sitting here staring at my screen. Of course I'm trying to write SS/HG smut while my husband is in the room. That rarely works out well.
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:iconls269:
ls269 Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2009
:rofl: I can imagine! He must be jealous! Still, it's always useful to get a male perspective on smut, so he might be helpful! ;)
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