Disclaimer: The Harry Potter World and everything in it belongs to J K Rowling, not me.

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Written for the "Un Happy Valentines Day Challenge."

Pairing: Narcissa and Lucius.

Prompts: Crash, Hatred and Wishes.

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Tradition

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She carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a small jewellery box. She had hoped that just this once he would be original. Maybe not romantic, that would be expecting too much, but show a little originality, that he could actually think for himself. But no, even the wrapping paper fitted in with tradition. Obviously wrapped by the family house elf, he would never sink so low as to do the job himself, it was silver with a green bow, traditional Slytherin colours. As for the box she now held in her hand, she almost feared to open it. She knew exactly what it contained.

She had known exactly how she would be spending Valentines Day this year since New Years Eve. Yes she had known that on this most romantic of days, she would have to act the perfect young lady her mother had always taught her to be. But most importantly she would have to accept the gift she now held in her hand. She would have to accept it with a smile and a nod which answered the unasked question it allured to, pretending it was actually what she wanted.

Despite all of this prior knowledge she could not help but hope, now the moment was here, that the small box in her hand contained something else. A broach perhaps, or a bracelet, something that showed he actually cared, he actually had feelings for her. But wishes she had learnt long ago, belonged solely in children's stories. He was a man of tradition. Romance played no part in tradition. No matter how many wishes she made.

She opened the box and stared down at the glaring diamond ring nestled inside. It made her feel like her entire world was beginning to crash down around her. However she kept her composure, and as her mother had taught her gave the man in front of her a beautiful smile, nodding her head in forged acceptance of the gift and everything it represented. He took the small box out of her hand, removed its content and slipped the ostentatious ring onto her finger. That one action seemed to seal her fate. All the dreams and wishes of her childhood crumbled, crashing down upon her all at once. There was no escape. The weight of it all almost made the pristine facade of upper class young lady she had perfected over her short years fall. Almost. But she told herself she was stronger than that, she would not let him see her weakness. She would not let him know the degree to which he affected her. She kept her perfect smile in place as she nodded along to the speech he was making.

If asked later she would be able to recite the major points of his speech faultlessly, despite the fact she was not listening. He was delivering a speech on his expectations. He would require a male heir. He would require her to be faithful to him until such time as one had been produced, (after which any affairs she may conduct must be done with the upmost discretion). He would require her to project an image of being flawless, no matter how many cracks there were beneath the surface. He would require her to be the epitome of all the values people in their society expected. She did not object to any of the requirements he laid out. It was tradition after all, that she would wordlessly obey his every command. He did not need to notify her that specification, it was a given in the world in which she lived.

Somewhere near the end of his most romantic speech he had suggested they leave, otherwise they would risk being late. Acting the true gentleman he was brought up to be, he helped her put on her coat and gloves, which a house elf had obviously gone and collected. He took her hand and apparated them to a spot a few streets away from the fashionable restaurant he had no doubt used the influence of his family name to get reservations at. She wondered why they had not just apparated to the door of the restaurant, it would have been more convenient. However his intention became clear when passersby began to looked at them as they walked down the street. He wanted them to be seen. He wanted their appearance to incite gossip, to be the talk of the town, to let everyone know she had been claimed as his. For it would be impossible for anyone who looked in their direction not to be blinded by the dazzlingly shine of the newest addition to her jewellery box. She knew that by the next morning everyone who was anyone would be aware of this latest develop in social connections. That is of course if they had not already heard it from her mother, who had hardly shut up on the subject since New Years Eve.

A couple sitting outside the newly opened ice cream parlour caught her eye. She was sure she knew them from somewhere. Probably Hogwarts, she decided as she watched the messy blackhead attempt to feed his pretty redhead girlfriend ice cream. He got some on her nose, she laughed at him, flicking it onto his glasses. She found herself wishing she could be that redhead. Genuinely smiling. Genuinely laughing. Genuinely in love. She shook her head turning it away from the young couple reminding herself that the time for wishes was over and done. She looked at the man whose arm she was holding, the time for upholding tradition was upon her.

The restaurant was packed with couples. It was as she had expected. It was Valentines Day after all. Some couples were old, some were young. Some were in love, some were obviously there out of obligation. As the meal went on they made small talk between themselves. It was rather stifled, but then it always was between them. She nodded and smiled in all the right places as he told her about the business deals he was working on. She acted just as her mother had told her to. Before long he had called for the check to be billed to his family account and was escorting her out the restaurant. He walked her back along the same route they had originally come.

The couple were still there, sitting outside the ice cream parlour. The messy blackhead now had his arms wrapped around the pretty redhead. He was listening intently to something she was saying. She could see something in his eyes as he looked at his girlfriend. It was a warmth, it seemed to say he cared for this redhead, that he loved her. As the man she was with pulled her along the street she could not help but wonder if he would ever look at her that way, with such devotion. She did not wonder long as he apparated them back to her family home. He took her hand bowing over it to kiss it in farewell, there was no love in his gaze as their eyes met, only indifference.

He made to leave. But she placed her hand on his arm to holt him. He turned to face her, an eyebrow raised in question. Had she been an ordinary girl she may have blushed. But she was not any ordinary girl, she was a well bred young lady. Well bred young ladies do not blush, or show embarrassment. Instead she looked him in the eye and asked the question she had wanted to ask since he first began to court her.

"Why me?"

He did not ask for clarification as to what she was asking.

"You are beautiful, well bred and from a prominent family." He drooled in a bored voice. "Did you really need to ask that?"

Of course she had known that, she had just wished there was something more to it. He seemed to sense that in her.

"Come now, you did not think that I would possess such a common, dirty emotion for you, did you?" He questioned, in what was as close to an amused voice as she had ever heard him use. "Love is something best left for mudbloods and blood traitors, my dear. People such as you and I have no use for such things. After all we have traditions and bloodlines to uphold."

She inclined her head in agreement to what he said. She had been a fool to even ask.

"If it makes any difference I find you tolerable." He said in response to her silence, obviously in some misguided attempt to appease her.

She almost snorted. Tolerable is what every girl wants to be called, especially on Valentines Day. Neither of them said anything else as he kissed her hand again and departed. In his absence she couldn't help but feel hatred. Hatred for her mother for raising her this way. Hated for him for choosing her. Hatred for the traditions of her society that governed things to be this way. But most of all in that moment she felt hatred toward that young couple she had seen outside the ice cream parlour. She felt hatred toward them for reminding her what she would never have, for being in love, for representing the true spirit of Valentines Day, something she knew she would never experience.

"Happy Valentines Day Lucius" she called out to the empty space her fiancé had apparated from moments before, realising that neither of them had said the words to each other.

And with that she turned and entered the house taking a deep breath, steadying herself for the news she had to tell her mother. The news that she was indeed to become the matriarch of one of the most prestigious bloodlines in Britain. The news that she would soon be Narcissa Malfoy.

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Authors Note - I have never written Narcissa/Lucius before so I hope you all like it. Please review!