— voice was laced with threat. She reminded herself that she was Narcissa Black, and she most certainly held power, even if 𝘩𝘦 had seemed to have forgotten it. She would not let this go.
Her features, normally carefully blank and sculpted to perfection, now twisted into a scowl as he spoke. At the same time her mind was going a million miles an hour — what 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 happen if she were to expose him to the ministry? She hadn't a clue how cases as such were —
He loved his witches height. As if the gods knew how needed someone that would compliment his own large frame. Most witches looked comical beside him but Narcissa, it's like they'd been carved for each other. She just hadn't gotten the memo yet. -
— these grounds.” They were magically shielded well enough; she knew at least that. The mere thought of having him out of her life for that amount of time was enough for some relief to soothe her temper. It was a solid plan.
“Now unhand me — for your sake.” Again, her —
It was so very easy to curl in on oneself when a creature of his stature towered over your person, his shadow swallowing you whole — even Narcissa, with legs longer than most, taller than even some of the boys in her house, was dwarfed by Fenrir's height. Even so, she refused —
"Well since you seem so adamant on not knowing what the proposition actually is, there's no need for you to worry then."
Fenrir had been seated the entire time, allowing her to look down at him, until he shifted from his seat and raised himself up to stand. -
— clue if he truly posed a threat with his condition, but she didn't much care; she was pureblooded, of the sacred twenty-eight, bearing a name belonging to the richest and most influential. He was nothing in comparison. Nobdody. She's had years to master the art of lying; if —
Narcissa took another quiet breath. She wouldn't allow him to get under her skin. All her life she'd kept her feelings under wraps for a dozen different reasons, and she refused to let them unravel now, to let them spill out into the world. Least of all with 𝘩𝘪𝘮 being the —
"I love it when you call me these cute little nicknames." he said, still seated as he watched her.
"Well, perhaps because it could benefit you in some way. But, if you're not interested that's fine by me. I have no issue carrying on with this little cat and mouse game."
— brushing invisble folds from her skirt. “I'll say it once, Greyback. There is no game.” She looked down her nose at him, cold and unfeeling, having tucked away everything and anything he'd instilled within her. “I'm not quite sure what you're trying to achieve, but it ends —