Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. At least, I don't think.

Summary: What actually happened on Lucius and Narcissa's wedding day? Did they really love each other?

A/N: Three new fics in one day! (Not written on the same day, though - my brain would blow.) This is probably my first non-d/hr fic, and my first lucius/narcissa. I've always wondered why they got married - was it a marriage of love or convenience? It's rather romantic in that bittersweet way, but that has to be blamed on the hormonal, teenage, female side of me. :) Even Lucius (who I usually dislike) is a more 3-D character: it's how I envisoned him to be when he was young, if he had not gone down the wrong path.

R&R please!

Flowers In Her Hair

Narcissa Black looked in the mirror, and she could see sadness in her eyes. It was completely out of place with the pure white gown she wore, the translucent veil, and the sparkling diamond jewelry. Narcissa smoothed out the creases on her gown, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She took quick, shallow breaths in rapid succession, hoping to start hyperventilating. Perhaps if she looked nervous, no one would be able to tell that she was sad.

It was her wedding day.

Narcissa had always imagined her wedding as something very different from how it was turning out to be. She forced a smile, before letting her face fall as she realised how awkward the expression looked on her face. Smiling was supposed to come naturally during weddings, which was one key reason why Narcissa felt that her wedding was utterly weird.

When she had mentioned that to her mother, her mother had waved the comment away dismissively. Narcissa sighed, turning to get a better look of her dress in the mirror. She looked pretty; there was no doubt about it. Her pale blonde hair fell to her back, flowers weaved elaborately into them. Which meant that she couldn't move her head too much or they'd fall off. Narcissa thought that the flowers were quite unnecessary, in fact. They were making her uncomfortable, and weddings weren't supposed to be uncomfortable.

Tomorrow she'd be lonely again. Narcissa shut her eyes, willing the wetness that was welling up in her eyes to disappear. Tomorrow, she'd leave her home to follow a man she was convinced did not love her. He was marrying her only because his father wanted him to. In fact, she was marrying him because her mother wanted her to.

Narcissa had promised herself never to be part of a political marriage. Yet she was about to do the exact thing.

Sure, Lucius was one good looking guy. But Narcissa didn't want to marry for looks, either. She wanted someone who understood her. She clenched her fists in her gown, crumpling up the material. If her mother could see her, Narcissa would get a scolding. But Narcissa's mother was not there, and Narcissa couldn't care less anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Narcissa reminded herself to keep her emotions in check. No matter how much she wanted to run away, she would do the right thing and go through with the marriage. Narcissa would not be the one to bring shame to her family name. She opened her palms, exhaling as she did so. Her reflection in the mirror stared mournfully back at her.

It looked as if it pitied her. Narcissa shook her head ever so slightly, careful not to let any of the thousands of flowers in her hair fall off. She would leave no evidence of her hesitation before the wedding. The guests were all there to witness the biggest marriage in a long time, and she'd give them what they wanted. A spectacular wedding.

Too bad Narcissa wouldn't have what she wanted.

As her sad eyes gazed at her reflection, Narcissa realised that she wasn't beautiful. She was nowhere as beautiful as the brides in so many of the weddings she had attended. Them with the smiles that reached their eyes. Them with the laughter that rivalled the song of birds. Them with happiness and security radiating off them with every blink of their eye. Them with the sickeningly sweet fantasy weddings that Narcissa wished she could experience too.

"Admiring yourself?" asked Lucius. Narcissa spun around suddenly, surprised to see him standing barely a metre away from her. She had not noticed his presence.

Lucius watched her look at him. She did not look in the least happy to see him as she stepped backwards slightly, lowering her gaze to the ground. He had watched her for a full minute as she simply gazed at the mirror, and Lucius could see the disappointment in her eyes.

For some reason or other, the thought that she was saddened by her marriage to him angered Lucius. He watched her angrily, willing for her to sense his presence. She never did, and Lucius found himself admiring her silently.

Something about her was different from all of the girls he had known and pretended to love. Her eyes were expressive pools of light, not unlike the pools of quicksand that sucked one in completely until breathing become impossible. Lucius felt that she could see right into his soul with every penetrating look, yet she never seemed to understand him.

She was upset because she was about to marry a man she did not love, Lucius realised. In some way, he was luckier than Narcissa, because he was about to marry the one woman he had loved ever since the day he had met her. She was not to know that, however, because Lucius was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were able to hide their emotions so well that sometimes they fooled even themselves.

Lucius had, for years, managed to convince himself that he did not love her, that he simply thought her pretty but commonplace. He had searched continuously for a reason as to why he was always so mesmerised by her eyes – perhaps she was a spell-caster, and had him under a spell. Perhaps it was because he disliked her too intensely.

It had taken years for Lucius to come to terms with the fact that he loved her. Finally, he could fool himself with that clever Malfoy disguise no longer. But he continued hiding it from everyone else, distancing himself from her before he went insane.

Then his father had asked him to marry her. A marriage of convenience, to join the two families. Lucius knew better – it was a marriage of love.

He was selfish.

Lucius knew it. She did not love him, but she was marrying him because she couldn't do anything but. All it would take was for him to step back and cancel the marriage, then she would be free. But Lucius could not do that because he was selfish. He wanted so much to marry her, and he'd do anything to ensure that the wedding continued without any hiccup.

Even forfeiting her happiness.

"Yes, admiring myself," replied Narcissa, her voice flat. She glanced away from Lucius and stared back into the mirror, willing her eyes to sparkle with non-existent happiness. "Are the guests all here?" she asked, arranging her skirt self-consciously. "I want to get this over and done with."

So she'd have no time to regret.

Lucius would have felt his heart shatter at his words, but she had broken his heart so many times before that he felt nothing. Every time she looked at him with those sad eyes, reminding him that she did not love him, Lucius died a little more. He was sure that, by the time the wedding was over, he'd no longer be alive. Narcissa would have killed him.

"It won't be long," Lucius replied coldly. "I want to get it over and done with too."

So he'd have no time to regret.

He wanted her to be happy, but more so than that, he wanted to be happy. Lucius believed that he'd be happy so long as he married Narcissa. He'd be happy as long as he could keep her close to him.

Narcissa watched Lucius in the mirror as he stepped across the room to take a seat on the couch. His platinum blond hair fell across his grey eyes handsomely as he suddenly raised his gaze to look her in the eye. Narcissa was startled by the depth of emotion in them, until his eyes flickered and the emotion was replaced by his usual steely gaze. Sadness washed across her again. For that split second, she had thought it possible that she was going to marry a man who actually loved her.

"You don't want to, do you?" Lucius asked quietly.

Narcissa looked up at him. He was gazing at her resignedly, as if he already knew what her answer was going to be. She could see the sadness in her eyes reflected in his, and she quickly looked down at the floor, not saying a word nor making any response.

When she did not reply, Lucius got to his feet hesitantly. "I guessed as much," he said, unable to look Narcissa in the eye. He was afraid that if he did so, he'd lose the courage that he'd spent so long mustering up. The courage to cancel the wedding.

Lucius looked up finally, against his better judgement. It was perhaps the last time he'd ever be able to actually look at her so closely. He was intending to leave the country once the wedding was cancelled, because he knew he'd never be able to live if he was forced to stay in such close vicinity of her, able to see but not able to hold.

His determination faltered as he looked into her eyes, but Lucius clenched his jaw and reminded himself that true love was not ownership but happiness. Those words seemed rather distant and detached as Lucius stared long and hard at Narcissa, trying to take a picture of her face. A picture that he could look at forever, regardless of whether or not she was there with him.

He loved her.

Narcissa saw hesitation in his eyes. He was going to do something drastic, and she knew it without knowing how. All rational thought left her, and all that Narcissa could think was that she had to do something before Lucius did anything rash. Her mind spun, but words seemed unable to form in her mouth, which was dryer and rougher than sandpaper.

He loved her.

It suddenly became clear to Narcissa as she stared into Lucius' eyes. For the first time, she looked him in the eye and saw him for what he really was. And what he really was, was the man that she wanted to marry. She wanted to marry him, because he loved her.

He was going to call off the marriage, and Narcissa wouldn't allow that. She could see him preparing to say the words, and Narcissa realised that, if he actually cancelled the wedding, she'd have lost him forever. She didn't want to lose him forever.

Narcissa didn't love Lucius the way he loved her, but his love for her made it possible for her to try and love him. She didn't want to lose the chance to marry the man she loved.

"I want to marry you," she said suddenly, surprising even herself. Lucius' eyes widened, then his face fell.

"You don't need to lie," he assured her. "If you really don't want to marry me, I can call off the wedding."

Narcissa saw the hurt in his eyes, as if her lie had hurt him more than anything else. "No," she said quickly. "Don't. I'm not lying, and I'm willing to marry you." Lucius made no response except to stare at her in utter disbelief, and Narcissa had to hold back a smile. It wasn't very often that one got to see a Malfoy looking so lost and unsure. "Don't give me time to change my mind," she added, a little annoyed.

Lucius straightened his back and tilted his chin. His expression changed instantly, back to its usual cold and unfeeling form. "Very well," he said hastily. "The wedding shall go on. I shall check on the situation outside." Without another word, he left the room.

Narcissa smiled to herself. Her reflection smiled back, the smile causing her eyes to twinkle. Perhaps this wasn't the wedding that Narcissa had dreamed of, but it was close. Close enough.

The door opened again, and Lucius stepped in. He exchanged a brief glance with Narcissa, before looking away. "You should take the flowers out of your hair," he said. "You're beautiful enough without them." And Lucius stepped out again, as abruptly as he had stepped in, closing the door behind him.

His words were simple and perhaps rather emotionless, but Narcissa read them as the "I love you" it was.

As she pulled the flowers out of her hair, Narcissa smiled. Now, this was the wedding she had always dreamed of.

A/N: AH, THE FLUFF:)