An observer watches a young couple that have eluded her and comes to a conclusion…NMLM
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to J K Rowling.
A/N: First not-parody HP fic, you've been warned.
Told in first person through the eyes of a third party. I imagine her as female because I am female, but her identity is not important to the plot, she can be anyone you want, on whichever side you want.
Please review (no flames)! If you don't have any reviews handy, raspberry ripple ice cream works as well.
Because they love each other really…
A Single Unguarded Moment.
For as long as I can remember I have loved the Ministry Christmas Ball, even before I started attending. Listening to the tales my parents told me of shimmering silks and sparkling laughter.
I have always prided myself on my ability to read people. To learn their innermost secrets through the way they stand, the way they laugh, the way they linger on a mistletoe kiss. Linger too long to be coincidence. Moreover I pride myself on my ability to read relationships. I know who loves and who doesn't.
Every year I come to this ball and I stand in my same spot, schmoozing with whoever cares to pass. A glass of Moet, a slightly raised eyebrow and I can read everyone.
Except one couple.
They are unreadable. Mixed signals. I can tell you that the warlock by the dance floor with the perspiration problem is having an affair with his buxom brunette secretary. The one in the thigh split skirt flirting with any male who dares cross her path. I can tell you that the young work experience student is eyeing up the head of the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures, and the feelings are not entirely unreciprocated.
But I can't tell you anything about Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.
Everything about them is calm, measured, veiled. Every hint of emotion I pick up is false. Love, hatred, agitation, lust, the air of one bewitched. It's there but a moment later it's gone. There's nothing solid, nothing genuine about them.
Did they marry for love? Prestige? To carry on a bloodline? Is it love or lust? Is it even either? Or does that brief flash of coldness in his eyes reflect the coldness of his bed?
Completely unreadable, until tonight. Something's changed. They're alive with emotions, so much so they're virtually unreadable for the opposite reasons. A welcome change. A welcome challenge.
I need a closer look, so I glide my way nonchalantly around the room.
And then I see it.
Beneath the flowing, flattering, emerald silk of her dress is the stomach of a woman at least seven months expecting.
A few pleasantries, the necessary congratulations and I retreat to read them from a distance.
She is proud, giddy, full of an overwhelming anxiety, clear from the way her wide eyes are at odds with her coy smile.
He is proud also. (A little too much perhaps, but the Malfoys are that sort of family.) Something in his stance speaks of relief. At having an heir at long last? Or deeper meaning? I nearly fling my champagne over the nearest waiter in frustration. Whilst there's real emotion for once, there is nothing really tangible. No indication of their married life together. Do they view this unborn child as a product of love or a necessity to carry on their lineage?
Duty calls and I must break off my watch to schmooze and banter meaningless anecdotes. It seems I am destined never to read their relationship.
But in the middle of mundane chatter with a mundane wizard, I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye.
A single unguarded moment. In a secluded corner, he places one hand on her swollen stomach and nuzzles her hair. She leans back against him and closes her eyes. For a single unguarded moment their fingers interlock.
And then they're apart, as veiled and intactile as they were before.
But I've seen something genuine.
Love.
A/N: I have a sort of companion piece to this that tells the evening from N's POV. It is unfinished at the moment but if you are interested, let me know.