How to be a Heartbreaker

Narcissa Malfoy 

(Monday 23rd March 1998)

"I hate to say it, but I think Malfoy may actually be growing on me."

Rowan glanced up from where she had been scribbling her Divination homework, furrowing her brows together. The common room was closing down for the night. Moonlight managed to just about shine through the lake and into the windows, but other than that, the room was lit by salt and oil lamps and candles. She curled on one of the sofas in the middle of the room, a dark green blanket draped over her lap. Other students were dotted about too, completing homework or chatting.

It was the last thing she was expecting Pansy to say as the dark-haired girl swiftly dropped a bouquet of flowers on the glass table in front of Rowan. She also held a box in her arms.

"And why is that?" Rowan asked.

"Malfoy bought me white carnations," she said, "Supposedly they are supposed to signify apologeticness."

Rowan scoffed. "Flowers is all it took? A high-maintenance lady like you, Pansy Parkin—"

"He also bought me those shoes I've been after!" Pansy exclaimed as if she was unable to keep it to herself any longer.

She planted herself down right beside Rowan and yanked the lid of the box off. Rowan's mouth tugged up into a grin and she laughed, grabbing the black boots out.

"Size 5?"

"Size 5!" Pansy squealed. "Did you tell him to do this for me?"

"No!" Rowan laughed, "I didn't even tell him about the shoes. He must have heard you mention them before."

Draco must have been more attentive than Rowan realised. She felt her heart swelling in her chest. It was warm and fuzzy. If Theo didn't loom in the back of her head after every good deed Draco did, she was pretty sure life would be very close to perfect.

"I can't believe it," Pansy hugged the shoes to her chest. "I've only been after these since forever! Gosh, he is such a..." She faltered and glanced at Rowan. "I was about to say 'gentleman'."

Rowan's grin softened to just a smile. "I'm still trying to figure him out myself. I think this is his attempt at making ameds with you, though."

"He's only doing it for you," Pansy shrugged. "Not that I particularly care. It's still... nice, I suppose."

"I can't believe he did this," Rowan shook her head. "I... It's really nice."

"He's a keeper!" Pansy pointed a finger at Rowan and grabbed her stuff in her arms. "I'm heading to bed, it's late. See you in a bit!"

He's a keeper.

Rowan dwelled on Pansy's words. Her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip as she stared at the crackling fireplace just a few feet away.

Draco did mean more and more to her as the days went by. But every day was more agonising than the last; just a day closer to their dreaded end. She couldn't help but be pessimistic. Theo was everywhere and he served as a constant reminder of what he could do.

She didn't even want the money anymore. She didn't care if she had to move back in with her father, as disgusting and horrible as that would be. Rowan wanted Draco. It was sappy and it was so unlike her, but her brain was consumed by him all day long– no matter what she did.

Their relationship had been built upon lies and pranks and secrets. She was sure it would end that way.

A hand was in her hair. Rowan jumped, snapping out of her trance. Her heart skipped a beat as fingers ran through her hair. That familiar cologne drifted over. Rowan tilted her head backwards, glancing up at Draco as he stood over the back of the couch.

"What are you doing up so late?" He asked softly. He still played with her hair.

Rowan could have melted. "Homework. And... ur, Pansy stopped by."

"Oh, did she?" He quirked a brow.

"Sending other girls flowers now, are we, Malfoy?" She teased.

"I heard Parkinson's love language was gifts," Draco said, "And I don't think she's stopped going on about those shoes since September."

Rowan laughed. "It's very kind of you. You're a big sweetheart, you know that?"

Draco leaned down and kissed her on the lips. It was upside down and a bit awkward to navigate, but Rowan didn't care.

"Tell anyone and I might have to kill you, Yaxley," he whispered against her lips.

Rowan leaned her arms backwards, grabbing him and pushing him further against her. He kissed her again, more playfully, his tongue slipping to graze her bottom lips. Rowan opened her lips further, their tongues meeting in the middle, her fingers scratching at his platinum hair.

"I want you to meet my mother," he panted as they let go.

Rowan was pretty sure she could have jumped. "What?"

That had come out of nowhere.

Draco kicked a leg over so he sat on the arm of the sofa. "Meet my mother," he repeated, "I told her all about you. She wants to get to know you better."

Rowan felt nervous and excited all at once. "I..." She began. "I don't know what to say."

"Will you?" Draco asked.

"I'd love to," she replied, "I just... We've only been dating a month. I don't know how the whole parent thing works, but shouldn't we wait—"

"Until what?" Draco said, "You never know how much time you have."

Rowan's eyebrows furrowed together. She felt sparks of anxiety. Her hand gripped the quill in her hand even tighter. The sharp end poked into her thumb. She pushed it deeper in hopes of her brain focusing on the pain in her fingers rather than the thumping of her heart.

"What does that mean?" Rowan hesitated.

There's no way he could know —

Draco looked a little flustered too. "It means what it means. What does it being only a month matter? If I am sure, I am sure. And Merlin am I sure about you, Rowan Yaxley."

Merlin, am I sure about you.

The corners of her lips tugged upwards. Her heart skipped another beat but it wasn't anxiety. She leaned up on her knees, wrapped an arm around the back of his neck and kissed him hard on the lips.

Why did this feel so natural?

Rowan knew one thing for sure— none of her other boyfriends had ever made her feel this way.

...

(Saturday 28th March 1998)

Rowan brushed her fingers through the bottom of her hair and glanced at herself in a mirror hung on the walls. An old woman from one of the many portraits hissed something about her vanity, to which Rowan simply rolled her eyes and walked towards the man and the lion statue in the turning point of the corridor.

She perched on the bottom of its platform and reapplied the dark lipstick she wore. Pansy had helped her to make every detail perfect. Not a hair was out of place, her eyeliner was more subtle, and her nails had been painted a beautiful crimson colour. Rowan had her favourite dress on; a black slip-on over the top of a white long-sleeved top.

Rowan wished she didn't care so much about what Draco's mother would think of her. After all, she had met Narcissa Malfoy dozens of times as a child and young teengaer. However, this was under completely different circumstances. She'd never felt so desperate for somebody to like her before— she was always a "take me as I am or not at all" type of person.

"She'll love you, you muppet," Pansy had rolled her eyes as she adjusted the strap of Rowan's dress. "I don't know how anybody couldn't."

Rowan tried to internalise Pansy's words, however, it was a little bit hard when she knew it wasn't true at all. Theo hated her, for starters. And then there was the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team too. Speaking of–

"It's quite disrespectful to sit on the statue of Godric Gryffindor, you know," Ginny Weasley remarked, stopping right in front of Rowan, glaring down at her. "You never see any of our lot messing around on your Salzar Slytherin one."

Rowan quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not messing around. I'm just sitting here."

She realised Gryffindor's best Chaser wasn't alone. Hermione Granger stood behind her, though she looked quite flustered, hugging books to her chest in her usual-Granger way. Her hair was a mess and she looked tired. Obviously somebody was aiming for top marks in their NEWTs. That all still felt so far away for Rowan. She supposed she'd been preoccupied.

"Ginny–"

Ginny wriggled her arm away from Hermione's touch. "It's just– it's rude."

"Everybody sits here," Rowan said, and then smirked. "What makes me different, Weasley? Is it because I get under your skin?"

Ginny laughed obnoxiously. "Not at all! Gryffindor scored four-hundred-and-thirty points against Hufflepuff, didn't you see? That's better than any of the scores Slytherin have had this year."

"Gryffindor also had the advantage of playing Hufflepuff play twice before you played them," Rowan said pointedly, now climbing to her feet so she could be eye-level with the red-haired girl. She gripped her lipstick tight in her fist.

"We're beating you," Ginny scoffed.

"By sixty points," Rowan shrugged as if those same sixty points didn't keep her up every single night. "I score that many points in the first ten minutes of every game."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mhm. Sure. If that's what you like to tell yourself, Rowan. We should all have big aspirations, I suppose."

Rowan chuckled bitterly. "Seriously, Weasley. Get away from me. I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't have time for all of this right now. And I don't really care what you have to say."

A figure watched her from a few feet away. Clad in a black suit and a black shirt. White-blond hair on pale skin, smirk on aristocratic features. Draco leaned against the wall, arms folded against his chest, watching her.

"I have to go," Rowan sighed dramatically. "See you soon, Weasley. See you, Granger. Bye-bye, Godric Gryffindor."

She leaned forwards and pressed her lips against the cheek of the man riding on top of the lion. Her kiss left behind a berry-coloured lip mark.

Rowan turned back around. Ginny was red in the face with anger. Hermione glanced away, embarrassed.

"Sorry, would you like one too, Weasley?" Rowan mocked.

Ginny did not have the chance for the perfect comeback. Rowan took off in the direction of her boyfriend. She flung her arms around him and kissed him. Draco immediately kissed her back eagerly, one of his large hands holding the back of her head. She hummed, then placed both hands on his shoulders and pushed herself away from him.

"You have lipstick everywhere," she laughed.

With a flick of the wand it was all gone.

Draco swiped his ring-clad finger across his lips, silver eyes trained on her. "That was fucking hot, Yaxley."

Rowan grinned, teeth and all.

...

Draco Apparated them both to a hospital.

Rowan's lips pursed upon looking up at the cathedral-like building. His grip on her hand was tighter, she knew he was watching her face with a nervous expression. Rowan swallowed a lump in her throat, watching mediwitches and mediwizards go in and out of the large front doors. She watched an old lady be pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse, her hand grazing the rose bushes that were just starting to bloom.

Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Rowan turned to look at Draco.

"Draco..." She breathed. "Why... why are we here?"

It was only now Rowan seemed to realise how boyish Draco looked. How young he looked, and how frightened he was. That stern expression he always wore had melted into one of heartache. Rowan felt a pang of disbelief.

"Is your mother sick?"

His silence said it all. It was as though he could not force himself to even nod.

Rowan threw her arms around him in a tight hug. His large hands found the small of her back. His cheek nestled into her hair. She felt him trembling a little.

"I didn't want to tell you," Draco whispered brokenly. "Nobody but father and I know."

Oh Merlin.

She stroked the back of his hair. "I'm so sorry, Draco," she whispered, her eyes wide and unfocused. "I'm so, so sorry."

She had no idea.

"How... How long?"

"She was struck by a curse during the war," Draco said, his voice slightly muffled. "She's been frail since I was born. She... She got really bad a couple of years ago."

"There's no France or second home, is there?" Rowan whispered.

"Technically this is France," he replied, "She doesn't want cameras here, she wants to go peacefully. Doesn't want to be remembered as a war criminal. When she goes, it will be 'unexpected'."

"I'm so sorry," Rowan repeated.

It was a lot to take in. Draco tore apart from her.

"Have I officially scared you too much to see her?" Draco worried. "I thought of telling you earlier, but I was scared you'd not... I don't know."

I can't see her. I don't deserve to meet her officially. I don't deserve to be one of the three people that knows the truth of where Narcissa is.

"This is why I wanted you to meet her," Draco whispered. He went silent for a while and had to force the next words out. "It doesn't look like she's going to make it much longer."

Rowan's own eyes watered. Guilt, empathy, sorrow... whatever else. Her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. His silver eyes were welling with tears, too. To her horror, a couple fell. Her hands were wet with his tears.

She didn't know Draco was capable of crying.

"Sorry," he huffed and tore away, straightening himself up. "I don't know what's coming over me."

"Don't do that," Rowan whispered, shaking her head. A frown creased on her face. "You're allowed to be upset. I'd be... Gosh, I'd be a mess if it was Pansy or- or you."

Draco pressed his forehead against hers. "She's been talking about you all of the time. I've owled her about you."

"Only good things, I hope," Rowan said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

They began to head towards the entrance.

"I've never had a bad word to say about you. You know that, Yaxley," Draco replied mockingly.

Rowan rolled her eyes and smiled for the first time since they'd Apparated. All of the signage inside was in French, but Rowan could guess what the large letters behind the main reception desk meant: Hospice Saint-Pierre.

Her heart clenched. She squeezed Draco's hand tighter– if that was even possible. He squeezed back and gave a nod to the lady behind the desk. She smiled back and said something in French. Rowan was hardly surprised when Draco replied in the same language.

"Wait," Rowan paused.

She stopped beside one of the cafés that was selling flowers.

"Does your mother like flowers? Or would she hate the sympathy?"

Draco cracked a smile. "Go ahead."

Rowan immediately went for the flowers which had first caught her eye. An enormous bouquet of dusty pink and off-white roses, eucalyptus and pink dianthus, arranged perfectly and wrapped in a blush paper, tied off with a ribbon.

"These ones," she said, "They're beautiful."

"She'll love them," Draco said and he took them from her hands, handing them to the boy behind the tills. "Combien est-ce que ça coûte?"

Rowan furrowed her brows as Draco pulled his wallet from his back pocket, rifling through the Galleons inside.

"Cent vingt Galleons, Monsieur," the boy replied.

"I'm getting them for her–"

"Merci," Draco said, chucking the money on the counter and grabbing the flowers back from him. He handed them back to Rowan as they left the shop. "You are giving them to her. Does it matter who paid?"

Rowan rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Whatever. Thank you, I suppose."

"You suppose," Draco muttered back teasingly.

He stopped outside of a door nearly a minute of turning meandering corridors later. "This is it. Are you ready?"

Rowan nodded. He gave her hand one more squeeze and knocked the door once before pushing it open.

"Hello, mother— father," Draco nodded.

Rowan wasn't sure what to expect upon following Draco into the room. She closed the door behind her and forced herself to smile even if it was the last thing she felt like doing.

The room was large, definitely fit for a Malfoy, and Narcissa was sat up in a huge bed across the other side of the room. It had been made to appear more like a bedroom than a hospital room. There was a wardrobe, a desk, flowers everywhere, and belongings decorated every surface.

The only giveaway was all of the medical equipment attached to Narcissa, and just how sickly she looked. Her cheekbones were jutting out, her lips cracked, her skin paler than anything Rowan had ever seen before– it almost looked greenish. Her shaky hands rested on top of her lap, over the bed covers, boney as they clutched a handkerchief.

Beside her, sat in a large, brown leather armchair was Lucius. He had a book in her hand and it looked like he had been reading to Narcissa before Draco and Rowan had interrupted. Rowan seemed to make eye contact with Lucius first. He sent her a small nod as he let the book fold shut.

"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed. Her voice was weak and quiet, but still excited. "Come closer. Introduce me properly to Miss Yaxley."

Rowan smiled as Draco led her over to his parents.

"Mother, this is Rowan Yaxley, my girlfriend," Draco said, "Rowan, meet my mother."

"It's so lovely to meet you, Mrs Malfoy," Rowan said, moving closer to the bed. "I brought you some flowers."

"I hope Draco didn't let you pay for those," Narcissa said, sending a warning look to her son.

Rowan was surprised for a moment.

"Of course not, mother."

"Well, they're beautiful, Rowan," Narcissa grinned and weakly held her hands out to take them. Her slender fingers shook as she held onto the bouquet, lifting it towards her nose and inhaling. "Mm, gorgeous."

"I'm glad you like them," Rowan replied.

"Father, I didn't know you'd be here," Draco said.

"Oh, your father's been stopping by every day," Narcissa said happily. "He was just reading to me."

"I see that."

"I'll be leaving now," Lucius said, taking the flowers from Narcissa and kissing her on the forehead. He placed them in an empty vase on her bedside table, and with a flick of his wand, it was filled with water and perfectly arranged. "It was lovely to see you, my darling. I'll leave Draco to look after you for now."

Narcissa grabbed her husband's hand, smiling up at him so lovingly Rowan almost couldn't believe it. She'd never seen parents show affection before. It felt as though she was witnessing something she should be looking away from.

"Goodbye, Lucius," Naricssa murmured, "Will you be back tomorrow?"

"Nice and early," he replied and kissed her hand before placing it back on her lap. "Goodbye, Draco. It was nice to see you, Miss Yaxley."

Draco didn't reply.

"Likewise, Mr Malfoy," Rowan said politely.

"Both of you sit," Narcissa said as soon as Lucius was gone.

There were two of the leather chairs beside Narcissa's bed. One for Lucius, one for Draco. Draco sat in the seat his father had just been in. Rowan perched on the edge of the other one. She felt weird relaxing. She was so on edge. Meeting your partner's parents was one thing, but this felt completely different.

"Draco has told me so much about you," Narcissa grinned, "Merlin, you are a beautiful girl. You take after your mother."

"Do you think so?" Rowan said, almost eagerly.

Narcissa laughed at the way Rowan had practically come to life, sitting up straighter. "Oh, yes. Venus was a beautiful lady. Very headstrong. So opinionated."

Rowan smiled softly. "I don't know too much about her."

"She was my older sister's best friend at school," Narcissa said. "Bellatrix and Venus were joined at the hip. Venus was almost always at our house."

Her mother suddenly felt far more real to her. She knew nearly nothing about Venus. Only that she had died during childbirth. Her father never spoke of her. Knowing Venus had been a teenage girl at Hogwarts once nearly made Rowan mourn the woman she had never met.

"That's so..." She was at loss for words. "Thats...."

Narcissa began to cough. Draco was quick to place a hand behind her back, rubbing it soothingly, his other hand guiding her hand with the handkerchief to her mouth. When Narcissa had finished coughing, she drew the white cloth away to reveal dark blood.

"Magic it away, will you?" Narcissa huffed.

Draco immediately cleaned it with a short spell. The cloth was pristine again. Rowan assumed Narcissa was too weak to do any magic of her own. She probably had to preserve herself. Rowan would never say it, but the woman did look moments away from death, and her voice was hoarse.

"I love your jumper, Mrs Malfoy," Rowan quickly tried to diffuse the tension in the room.

Narcissa glanced down at the black crochet jumper she was wearing. "You should have it," she said, "I'll get Lucius to deliver it to you."

Rowan's eyes widened. "Oh, no, I could never take that from—"

"Oh, please, darling," Narcissa chuckled. "You will have it. Besides, I never wear the same thing twice– don't care how sick I might be."

Even Draco laughed a little at this.

Rowan smiled. "Well, thank you, Mrs Malfoy."

"It will suit you."

They began to talk for ages. Narcissa's nurses came in with lunch for the three of them and checked Narcissa's vitals with a few quick spells. They gave her a green potion which was said to make her drowsy within the next few hours.

They were laughing about a Quidditch story when Draco excused himself to go to the bathroom. He went into the ensuite and left the two women alone.

"I can't tell you how happy I am that Draco has found somebody like you, Rowan," Narcissa said, her voice slightly hushed. "I thought I would never get to see him with somebody. Thank you."

Rowan felt her throat grow tight. She forced a tight-lipped smile that came out as more of a grimace.

"I... You don't need to thank me, Mrs Malfoy," she replied, "I really like Draco."

"I can tell he's very fond of you, too," Narcissa said, her eyes soft as she reached and grabbed Rowan's hand. "I remember when he sent me those letters all those years ago. Gushing over how pretty you were, and how good you were at Quidditch."

Rowan's heart danced.

"Oh, really?" She tried to keep her cool. Really, all she wanted to do was make a screeching sound and jump up and down on the spot until she had all the information.

"Yes," Narcissa laughed. "You're all he went on about for a while. Don't tell him I told you, will you?"

"It'll be our secret," Rowan grinned back and held up a pinkie.

Narcissa laughed and linked her finger with Rowan's. "Oh, you're a sweetheart."

"What are you two gossiping about?" Draco asked as he shut the ensuite door behind him.

"Oh, nothing that concerns you," Narcissa said, "We were just having a girl-chat. I miss having another woman to talk to."

"We can come back together," Draco said all too eagerly.

"Of course," Rowan agreed quickly. "I've had so much fun."

Narcissa smiled and clasped her hands together. "Oh, I'd love that," she breathed.

"Do you think she likes me?" Rowan asked as they arrived back at Hogwarts.

Everybody was in the Great Hall for dinner. The smell of stew was wafting over, making Rowan's nose crinkle. Draco tucked her hair behind her ears as they stood by one of the windows, dusk stating to make its appearance.

"She loved you," he replied.

"I know!" Rowan squealed. "I just wanted to hear you say it!"

Draco laughed and then went quiet. "That meant a lot to me, you know, Yaxley."

"You've been calling me 'Yaxley' an awful lot today, Malfoy," Rowan said.

"Nervous habit, maybe," he admitted. "But honestly, I've not seen her so happy in such a long time. Thank you, Rowan. She's always wanted a daughter."

Rowan had to refrain from saying, I've always wanted a mother. She kissed Draco's lips instead. When she pulled away, she stilled. Theo stood by the entrance of the Great Hall, eyes watching.

She froze, her teeth capturning her bottom lip, her heart stopping. For a moment, she thought he'd just stopped to watch, but Blaise quickly appeared and the two headed into the Great Hall for dinner. Theo watched her until the last second.

A reminder of the horrible, terrible thing she was doing. Now, not only to Draco, but his poor mother, too.

–

This isn't proof-read so hopefully there's not too many mistakes!

Also I've never had a faceclaim for Rowan, but I'm thinking Jenna Ortega would be the perfect match. What do you guys think? She definitely has that dark, effortlessly cool look I want Rowan to embody. And imagine her and Pansy being besties together!! She looks like such a Slytherin.

Anyways, thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

Dyiansobrien