This story is AU, you should know going in. The ages are not canon, and obviously, the main plot device is not canon either. Still, I hope you'll read and enjoy!

The Daily Prophet, Page 9b, Obituaries

Cecelia Malfoy, beloved wife and mother, passed away on June 6, 1980, shortly after the birth of her son, Draco Malfoy (see Births, P 9a). She leaves behind a grieving husband and infant. She will always be remembered for her sunny disposition and generosity, and the many people whose lives she touched will-

Here, the text was interrupted as a mug of coffee was set upon it.

"Bella, I was reading that! Did you know Lucius Malfoy's wife is dead?"

"Yes, I'd heard. Cissy, you need to stop reading obituaries; it's morbid. Shouldn't a nice, pureblooded girl such as yourself be out flirting with suitors or playing with dolls or something?" Bellatrix waved an airy hand, and Narcissa narrowed her eyes.

"Shouldn't a nice, twenty-two year old pureblooded old maid such as yourself have a husband by now?"

"I'll marry when I want to," Bellatrix snarled in reply.

"You mean when some poor man will take you?"

"Girls, enough bickering." Druella Black appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, glaring down at her daughters. They both sat up a bit straighter.

"Bellatrix, by no means will you 'marry when you want to.' Your father has accepted the proposal from the Lestranges-"

"The Lestranges were in negotiations?" Narcissa interrupted, eyes wide. "Bella, you never told me! When's the wedding?" she asked, eager as any seventeen year old at the prospect of a new set of robes. Bellatrix shrugged, glaring into her coffee as though it had somehow offended her.

"The wedding is in two months," Druella supplied succinctly. "And don't you sulk, Bellatrix."

"Which one is it?" Narcissa gushed after their mother left.

"Rodolphus," Bellatrix mumbled, still scowling. Narcissa clapped with excitement.

"Ooh, you got the handsome one! Terrifying, of course, but he's quite nice to look at. Why do you look so put out about it? Don't you and Rodolphus get along?"

"We get along fine," Bellatrix snapped. "But I don't think it's for Mum and Father to pick out my husband."

Narcissa didn't reply. She knew very well that it was her sister's own fault; if only Bellatrix had decidedly more quickly upon a rich, pureblooded man, Cygnus and Druella would have been happy to support the choice. But the fact of the matter was, the Blacks were running out of money. They had the purest blood one could find, but when that blood was preserved at the cost of marrying one's own cousins, wealth rarely grew, and more and more embarrassments were born each generation: weak-minded heirs unable to prosper.

"It could be worse, Bella," she reminded her sister softly.

"That's right- I could be you."

Narcissa frowned at her sister's harsh words, but Bellatrix pressed on anyway.

"They won't have you marry another Lestrange- not much gold in that, is there? Britt Parkinson's just gotten engaged, Michael Wilkes was married last month, even Crabbe and Goyle both have little ones now, the Rosier's are as poor as the Blacks, the Crouches only have the one son, and he's just started Hogwarts- Cissy, don't you see?"

"See what?" she replied suspiciously, taking a sip of tea.

"That's all the wizarding families in the United Kingdom with heirs to speak of. So if you don't get an heir, then you get the current holder of wealth himself- some old man with children, or even grandchildren, your age. Or, worse yet- they'll send you abroad. And I don't mean to France; Mum's too closely related to the respectable families there. You'll be given to some Spanish mago, or a Russian Мастер."

"I will not," Narcissa hissed. "You're lying; I know there must be some decent wizards around our age, at least in Scotland."

"Go ask Father yourself. See what he has in mind." She grinned maliciously, in a much better mood now that she had caused someone pain. Narcissa rose to her feet.

"I think I shall. You're likely just jealous that you're stuck with a foul, violent drunk like Rodolphus Lestrange. I'm sure that whatever Father has in mind for me can't possibly be worse than that."

"Daddy?" Narcissa knocked on the door of her father's study. "Daddy, may I come in?"

"Narcissa, dear." The door swung open to reveal both her parent's, looking concerned. "We were just talking about you, actually, poppet."

"Bella says you're sending me away," she blurted, quickly forgetting the carefully composed speech she had prepared. "She's lying, isn't she?"

"Dear..." her parents exchanged uncomfortable glances. "Obviously, we're trying to avoid that."

"She had five years after graduation to find someone- should I be granted at least that before you send me off to Russia?"

"Narcissa..." Druella laid a gentle hand upon her youngest daughters head. "Circumstances have... shifted, in the past few years. While you were at Hogwarts, it was not of the same concern to you, but now that you've graduated..."

"An opportunity had arisen," Cygnus interrupted. "Due to tragedy, unfortunately, but it may be the only chance we get. The Malfoy's have recently had death in the family, and-"

"Lucius Malfoy?" Narcissa gasped. "But his wife hasn't been dead a week! Surely he's not already looking for a new one?"

"No, he is not." Cygnus sounded thoroughly displeased about this fact. "He is, however, loath to permit his son to grow up without the proper influence of a good, pureblooded woman in the home. Someone respectable to properly raise the boy, so he is not left the elves and half blood nannies."

"So... he wants a mother for the boy, but not a wife for himself?"

"Precisely, poppet."

"I don't understand. How am I supposed to-" she broke off abruptly, suspicious. "Exactly what did you have in mind, Daddy?"

"If you were to serve as the child's mother... It is only natural that, once his grief has passed... you, poppet, would be the natural choice for a wife."

"It's sick," Narcissa snapped. "I won't hover about his home, tending his son, waiting like a... a... scavenger!"

"Narcissa, he cannot possibly raise a child on his own, and other available girls will be fighting for the position as soon as they hear of it. We must go today," Druella announced with finality.

"I don't want- I don't know anything about babies!"

"Would you rather leave the country?"

"I'll stay here! I don't need new gowns or-"

"Narcissa. Listen to me." Cygnus drew a deep breath. "After Bella's wedding, your mother and I will be... visiting my sister, your Aunt Walburga, for an indefinitely extended period of time."

Narcissa blinked. "You've lost the house?"

"No, darling, nothing like that. But it is... rather costly to run a household and it wouldn't make much sense for your mother and I to be living all alone in such a big place-"

"You wouldn't be alone! I would be here!"

"Narcissa!" Druella exhaled sharply, giving her daughter a pained look. "It cannot be done."

Narcissa marched up the sweeping steps of the Malfoy Manor with an expression akin to one of resignation. She could not quite believe that she was here, seeking employment. Her, a Black!

She pounded the knocker, and a house elf opened the grand door.

"I want to see Mr. Malfoy," she told the creature imperiously.

"I is sorry, Miss, but he is not seeing no one."

"Good," Narcissa replied, leaping upon its unintentional double negative brought about by poor grammatical skill. "I'll be the next person he won't not see." She brushed into the foyer, despite the elf's squeals of protest. Several blonde portraits glared at her abrupt intrusion, but she paid them no mind. "Tell him I'm here. Shall is wait in a sitting room, or stand here like a barbarian?"

Nervous and confused, the elf showed her the way to a lovely receiving room. "I'll be telling him you're here then, Miss."

"Good. Hurry, please."

Narcissa doubted very much that the elf disobeyed her order. She was quite certain that it was Mr. Malfoy's obstinacy that kept her waiting for an hour and half with no sort of diversion; the elf did not even reappear to offer her tea.

"By now, most people would have taken the hint that they are not welcomed nor wanted."

Narcissa sprang to her feet as Lucius Malfoy swept into the room. She had never known him at school, as he was ten years her senior, but had spotted him at parties and social gatherings ever since she'd been a little girl. At twenty seven, he already stuck a commanding figure in the world of politics and law, and she'd heard that he was merciless towards those who opposed him. His grey eyes were cold as he regarded her with disdain.

"Mr. Malfoy," she dropped into a small curtsy. Since they were of the same class, he should have returned a obligatory bow, but he remained stiffly upright. "I'm not sure we've ever been properly introduced. I'm-"

"I know who you are- your oldest sister is marrying soon and your other has ruined her name. I can guess why you're here, and frankly, I'm disgusted. My wife has been dead a mere seventy two hours, Miss Black," he reminded her firmly. There was a curious lack of pain in his voice when he spoke of her passing. She matched his cool indifference when she replied, though her heart was pounding.

"I am aware of that, Mr. Malfoy," she told him quietly. "I am also aware that you have a newborn son. He might receive entirely sufficient care from hired girls, but he will need the influence of a Pureblood woman in his life to ensure that he is properly brought up."

"And you think you'd be the one to give him that? You're scarcely more than a child yourself. I don't need a little girl hanging around my Manor all the time, playing house with my son and heir."

"I've graduated from Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy, and received Outstanding marks in all of my N.E.W.T's. I will be eighteen in two months, so there is no need for you to consider me anything beneath a pureblooded woman of good standing."

"So you think I'll marry you? Before Cecilia is cold in her grave? You come to me, without your father or chaperone, and ask if I'll make you my wife? I won't consider it. My elf will show you out." He turned to go.

"Mr. Malfoy, wait!" The desperation in her tone made him pause, but as he stood in the doorway, he did not look back.

"I don't want to marry you. I want to work for you. My father will send me out of the country if I have no future here, and I need a bit of time to find a husband- not you!" she added quickly, "and settle down and have my own life. But there are so few positions he considers acceptable for a pureblooded girl, and I- I just can't go to Russia!"

She had come here to persuade Malfoy that she was a competent young lady, and an asset to his household. Narcissa was quite convinced she had just failed at doing so brilliantly.

"Miss Black, please, go."

With the last shreds of dignity she retained, she rose and showed herself to the door.