Pairing: Narcissa/Molly.

Rating: R.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Characters owned by J.K. Rowling.

Summary: It's hard to be a good Hufflepuff when you know in your heart of hearts that you were born to be a Slytherin. A young Narcissa hovers on the brink; a seemingly hopeless love may pull her into the light, or push her further into the bitter darkness. Precanon Molly Weasley/Narcissa Malfoy femmeslash.

Note: This particular chapter is set in Hogwarts, during Narcissa's schooling days.

:part two - elaborate games:

Half an hour later, Narcissa was beginning to wonder why she had been so worried.  In fact, she was feeling boredom begin to creep over her, and with it, a kind of resentful malice.  Someone, she decided, was going to have to pay for her being so nervous for mop good reason. And for having to endure such an unprecedented period of bonding, teenage girl style.  Surely they were too old for Truth and Dare, anyway.

Still, she reflected, as Karen began to relate with giggling and bushing tediousness her first kiss at the age of eight, there were compensations. For example, the fact that Molly was snuggled up next to her on Narcissa's bed.  They were not actually touching, but they were so close Narcissa could feel her warmth through her nightgown.  Or maybe, she warned herself, it was just obsession making her imagine things. Surely she wasn't that attuned to Molly's body. 

She shifted away a little on the bed, and then wondered if she had imagined a slightly hurt pout flicker for a moment on the other girl's face.

"This is boring," Narcissa snarled suddenly, to cover her sudden guilt.

"I wasn't finished yet!" Karen objected, but mildly. Molly was the only one in the room who didn't appear to be bored out of her brain. She was just transparently happy because her friends were all together playing.  Sometimes Narcissa thought the redhead was an entirely different species to her.  The Quintessential Hufflepuff, while Narcissa was… whatever she actually was.

"No, Our Narcissa is right," Isis drawled.  Her pale blue eyes were sparkling mischievously in her dusky-complexioned face, the contrast both unsettling and oddly attractive.  " I think perhaps it is time to pull this up to the next level… And this will help." She climbed off Molly's bed and reached under her own, pulling out a bottle and four glasses.

Karen examined the bottle, and then stuck out her tongue.  "Irish Cream… ugh. Couldn't you have got a real drink, honey?  You might as well get drunk on chocolate milk." She chuckled suddenly. "You'd think we were girls or something."

Isis shrugged. "So long as it works, who cares? Besides, we have to stop… some of us… being so very careful with our answers, right, Narcissa?"

Narcissa flushed a little. Of course the game was ensorcelled to prevent her actually lying, but she had been… rather careful with her choice of words. But then, that had been habit for very many years, since she was a young child. She didn't think a glass of chocolate –flavoured girlie drink was going to make much difference to that.

Molly was frowning slightly. "I don't drink much, you know that, Isis," she said, sounding more than a little disapproving.

Karen grinned at her, and squeezed her arm. "Come on, my sweet Molly, we're not trying to get you sozzled and seduce you.  Well, we aren't." She sent a dancing look across to Narcissa, who wondered just what Isis had been discussing with the other girl lately. Surely she wasn't that transparent… "We just want to loosen you up a little, so the game is more fun. The next stage looks… kinda embarrassing."

"Leave her alone!" snapped Narcissa, resisting the urge to knock Karen's arm off Molly's arm. "She doesn't have to do anything she doesn't feel like." She wondered, with her usual detachment from her own emotions, if her irritation stemmed from humiliation at Karen's teasing, protective feelings towards Molly or possessiveness. She certainly didn't like watching the other girl touch her.

Molly gave her an odd look, and then reluctantly said, "Just a tiny glass, then, Ise."

"Good girl!" Isis filled the glasses and passed them around.  Narcissa felt as if she had lost some kind of contest, but she wasn't sure what.

"If you get off your face, we promise to keep you safe from Narcissa," Isis added slyly.

Narcissa could feel her pale skin suffuse with blood.  Karen might tease her in a friendly spirit, but she meant no harm by it. Isis, though, really did resent her. Like most basically nice girls, when she was rejected she could bear a grudge indefinitely.

Molly, oblivious to any bad feeling between her friends, merely smiled and gave her drink a tentative sip. "Ooh, this is nice… I wouldn't worry.  Cissy wouldn't ever do anything to hurt me," she said confidently. She sent Narcissa a fond glance that made the blonde girl blush even darker, from pleasure this time.  Bloody Molly, why did she have to be so dense… and so sweet?  No wonder she liked Irish Cream.

Narcissa swallowed her own glass in two gulps, wincing at the sickly sweet taste.  She suddenly wanted the night to be over. But it was Christmas holidays tomorrow, and curfews were relaxed. She probably had hours of this bizarre torture left.  Sighing, she held out her glass, and Isis refilled it. 

"Okay, now," Karen said, picking up the instructions again.  "If we're ready to move onto the next stage, we shuffle in *these* cards with the questions already set, and we also add these cards for if anyone rolls a six. Ready, Molly?"

""kay…" Molly leaned over and threw the sparkling little die, her left breast incidentally brushing against Narcissa's right arm as she did so. Narcissa pretended not to notice.  "Six!" the redheaded girl crowed happily, taking another sip of her drink. "What do I do now?"

Molly's playing piece, a pink teddy bear, skipped over to the pile of questions, and lifted the top one.  "Dare!" it squeaked happily.  "You have to choose one of your friends to kiss on the mouth."

There was a silence, as Molly's round face slowly turned pink. "Any friend?" she asked.

"One playing the game," the teddy bear clarified, and ran to its new position on the board, losing its animation the moment it arrived.

Narcissa stared at her hands, unable to look up, frozen in place. She felt Molly's warm gaze rest thoughtfully on her a long moment, and Isis' barely controlled glee across on the other bed.  It must be fated that she kiss me, Narcissa thought dimly. Opposed fantasies warred in her head; Molly melting into her arms, realising this was what she had always wanted deep in her heart… Or herself, unable to control herself, kissing too deeply, and Molly pulling back in disgusted horror.

"Well, here we go!" Molly said brightly. "There's a first time for everything."

Nothing will happen, Narcissa told herself. She'll brush her lips against mine, and then it will be over. There's absolutely nothing to feel sick with anticipation over…

She had been right.  Nothing did happen, except that Molly leaned across the gap between the two four posters, and planted an affectionate kiss on Karen's rosy mouth. It seemed, to the tortured girl on Molly's bed, to last for hours.

After hours, or seconds, the girls' lips parted.  There was an embarrassed silence, as Narcissa felt pain lance through her, and then: "Why, Mary Weasley, who would have thought you'd taste like Irish Cream?" Karen asked. The mood was broken, and Narcissa was finally able to look away as the two girls dissolved into hilarity.

"That wasn't so bad, now, was it?" Isis asked. She was staring at Narcissa, and the expression in her pale eyes could have meant anything. Disappointment, unkind enjoyment, even sympathy… Narcissa decided that any emotion was a good enough reason to hate the other girl. She needed to hate someone, and hating Molly was quite impossible.

She drank off her glass without tasting the sweet liquor.  Karen and Isis had  not dares but questions, about who they had crushes on – both had a taste for Griffindor boys, apparently – and their turns passed without incident. Molly, Narcissa noticed absently, was getting decidedly merry, either out of relieved tension or because she was unused to drinking. Half a glass was apparently about her limit.  Narcissa watched her pretty, rounded face, and wondered dully why Molly hadn't kissed her.

It was stupid to even think about it. After all, Molly hasn’t kissed Isis, either… But her mind ran over the question with painful monotony, as the other girls teased each other, their games seeming miles away from her.  Had Isis and Karen's teasing finally got through to Molly and made her realise that Narcissa was crazy about her? And, if so, did it mean she didn't dare kiss Narcissa for fear of hurting her, or because the idea disgusted her? Or, she thought sickly, maybe she really isn't as convinced we are friends as I thought, and maybe she takes my withdrawals seriously… Maybe she thinks I'd push her away in dislike, like I shrank away from her on the bed.

The thought hurt more than even the thought of being rejected by Molly. I want… I want her to keep trying to be my friend, no matter how often I push her away, she realised.  I'm ridiculously messed up. If there ever was proof I shouldn't be in Hufflepuff…

"Hurry up and throw the die, girl!" snapped Isis. Narcissa blushed and threw it, hardly knowing if she wanted to roll a six or not.

She rolled a three. Her playing piece, the least sickeningly girlie she could find in the set – a little glass ballerina, delicate and slender  – tripped across and chose a Confession card.

The ballerina's tinkly little voice rang out. "Describe how you felt when Molly kissed Karen."

Narcissa resisted the urge to scream. "I don't believe it. How in the world could that be the question?"

Isis smiled at her, dark lips curving as slowly and provocatively as Narcissa's own practiced smile. "The game is enchanted to take into account things that happened previously. Why do you think we never get the same question twice?"

Narcissa glanced wildly around. Karen looked confused, pink and apprehensive. And Molly… Molly's eyes, slightly glazed with unaccustomed tipsiness, were very wide.

"I don't want to play anymore," said Narcissa, with uncharacteristic cowardice.

Isis' smile widened with triumph. She has me now, Narcissa realised, and she's going to make me squirm. "What are you afraid of, Cissy?"

"I – didn't care. Why should I?" Oh, that was stupid, Narcissa realised immediately the lie left her throat.  As if the game would let her get away with that…Her playing piece was already scolding her in its high thin voice.

Isis' gaze never wavered. "It won't be quiet until you answer, Narcissa. You'd better tell us how it felt, or we'll none of us get any sleep."

Suddenly it felt more degrading, and more of a surrender, to keep trying to hide her feelings when Isis clearly saw straight through her to the humiliating truth. And the cold, distant part of Narcissa was telling her that if she confessed her feelings, it might finally shut them up, and take away Isis' only weapon against her. She said, softly and defiantly. "Okay, then, it hurt. It hurt like hell.  I felt sick with jealousy  and disappointment." She raised her golden head and said, proudly, "I wanted the first girl Molly ever kissed to be me."  Molly gave a kind of gasping hiccup, and the ballerina, apparently satisfied, returned to inanimate glass. "And I don't want to play this stupid childish game anymore."

"I knew it." Isis punched the air. "Gaydar never fails."

"Leave her alone, Ise," Karen said in a small voice.  "I think perhaps we'd better get some sleep," she added awkwardly.

Narcissa felt rather than saw Molly stand and look down at her. "Cissy…"

"Go to bed, Molly," Narcissa said dully.

She collapsed on her own covers and lay there, hearing the other girls mutely finish getting ready for bed and blow out the candles. Then she lay and watched the hours go past, hating herself, hating Isis and even Karen. Karen had been willing enough to go on with the game until she pushed too far, after all. Yet Narcissa was still not able to hate Molly. After all, Molly was the one person who would never intentionally hurt her.

She wasn't even surprised when she heard Molly's voice saying softly, some time before dawn, "Cissy? Narcissa, are you awake?"

I knew she'd try and make me feel better, Narcissa realised bleakly. Molly never could resist a lost cause, or someone in pain… Yeah," she admitted. I might as well let her do her ministering angel routine now, or she'll never let it drop. Goddess, will this ever stop hurting?

She heard Molly move across the room, and felt her settle on the edge of the bed again. "Cissy, are you cross with me?" she asked in a slightly shaking voice. Narcissa had a sudden impulse to hug her better, and repressed it. . "I only… well, I thought the others would tease you worse if I kissed you."

"Cross? Molly… no. No. You did nothing…" Absolutely nothing, she added bitterly to herself, but be adorable, and kiss someone else. You probably deserve to rot in hell… But no, I'm not cross.

Molly sighed with what sounded like relief. "Isis didn't mean to upset you, you know," she said in something more like her usual voice. "She just lets her tongue run away with her sometimes."

"I doubt that very much."

"Oh, Cissy…" Molly sounded close to tears gain, and Narcissa felt a stab of guilt.. "I didn't realise. I never even thought you liked me much, really.  But I liked you, despite… well, there was always something about you.  I always thought you'd be a friend worth having, if you thawed a little.  I always wished we could be real friends."

"So did I," Narcissa said. It was true, she realised, with some surprise. But she had never had the knack for making friends… Hufflepuff should be reserved for sweet giving souls like Molly, not hopeless misfits who couldn't even take friendship when it was offered without turning it into a weird obsession.  "I – I like you too… she added, hopelessly and inadequately.

"I know," Molly said, very gently.  "Narcissa, I kissed Karen… Would you like me to kiss you as well?"

"Yes." The words came straight from Narcissa's soul, without intervention from her brain.

The next thing Narcissa knew, she felt a warm mouth covering her own, softer and sweeter than she could ever have imagined.  She dizzily realised that Molly was kissing her, softly and lightly, again and again, until one kiss merged seamlessly into the next. She sighed, lips parting, and the kiss deepened.  Her arms wound tightly around Molly's plump body, solid yet somehow yielding in its femininity, and strong arms slipped under her, gathering her up into a close cuddle.

Molly clung tightly and wept, for the first time in years.  She held tight to the girl she loved and sobbed out all the loneliness and confusion of years. Her other self, the analytical distant Narcissa, was nowhere to be found, drowned in pain. 

Molly held the shaking girl tight, shushing her gently, whispering "It'll be okay, please don't cry," over and over.

"I love you," Narcissa said, despairingly. "But please don't worry, I know you don't love me that way."

Molly tensed in her arms. "Cissy, it's more than that. You know my cousin Arthur… I'm so sorry, honey, so sorry."

"Oh, God." Narcissa didn't think it was possible to cry harder, but she did. Molly stroked her hair and rocked her gently, until her sobs stilled. She was tired, so very tired and drained she thought she could never move of her own accord again.

Narcissa felt gentle hands settle her back on the bed and tuck the blankets around her. As exhausted sleep claimed her, she felt a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Sleep well, dearest Cissy," Molly whispered, and moved back to her own bed.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy touched the bell by her bed and called for a house elf to bring her a sleeping draught.  She was exhausted, and she didn't want to follow her thoughts much further.  Most particularly, she didn't want to be thinking of Molly Weasley when her husband came to bed.  She didn't even want to be awake when he came to bed.

But her mind kept along the same track. Hurtling towards the Christmas break, and her first meeting with Lucius Malfoy…