Lucius didn't see the bag drop onto his desk, but his practiced ear told him it was full. Bulging with Galleon coins, judging by the clatter it made as it hit the polished wood. He took his time about pouring his drink, knowing Severus would have scooped the bag up and tucked it into one his sleeves before Lucius turned around again.

"Had a good week," Rodolphus grunted. "Got rid of the rest of that prickleflower extract Mundungus Fletcher picked up and –"

"Spare me the details," Severus said shortly. "I've no interest in them." Rodolphus's words trailed off in an indignant splutter, followed by what he no doubt considered a face-saving clearing of the throat, as though it had been his intention to stop speaking at that point all along. "The only thing I want to know," Severus continued when the noise finally abated, "is when you plan to get caught up."

Lucius put the decanter down on the sideboard and fitted the stopper into its neck. He turned slowly and leaned back against the edge of the sideboard, swirling the heavy glass of Ogden's Old in one hand. Rodolphus was glaring daggers in Severus's direction.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rodolphus demanded. His tone was full of bravado, but the unconscious way he licked at his bottom lip spoke to his apprehension more conspicuously than a Howler.

"Don't play dumb with me," Severus said. "And don't try to take me for a fool, either. You've been holding back on us for months, and all three of us know it." Severus jerked a small cloth bag from the depth of his sleeve and held it up. "As impressive as this may be, it isn't your full percentage," he said, tossing the bag up and down a few times so the coins inside jingled. "And nor was it last week. Or the week before that."

"That's not –"

"Or the week before that," Lucius said, cutting Rodolphus's protest off mid-sentence. He raised his glass and took a sip of its contents, watching Rodolphus over the rim as his eyes darted in Lucius's direction. No one spoke. The silence was thick as Lucius crossed the room and settled into one of the high-backed armchairs next to the hearth. Rodolphus continued to worry his lower lip, looking at neither Lucius nor Severus. A thin sheen of perspiration broke out across his forehead as Lucius sat back against the seat cushion and tucked his robes in around him. "I do hope," Lucius said, once he was comfortably situated, "you aren't labouring under the impression the rules no longer apply to you now you've joined the Dark Lord's inner circle."

This challenge seemed to strengthen something in Rodolphus. His spine grew rigid and he allowed the tiniest of sneers to twist the corner of his mouth. "You've no power over me any longer, Lucius," he said. "The Dark Lord elevated Bella and me because we are loyal to him, the most loyal of all his Death Eaters, and he knows it. You have no – "

"The most loyal of all his Death Eaters?" Severus scoffed. "Really? Is that what you call it when you consistently refuse to pay the full amount of the tribute the he requires from all of us?"

"And what proof do any of us have that the Dark Lord is actually the one requiring this tribute?" Rodolphus spat, his eyes narrowing with distrust, and Lucius found himself a bit disappointed that Rodolphus had not continued to protest his innocence. He was certain Severus knew to the knut how far behind Rodolphus actually was, and it would have been very enjoyable to watch Severus tear the lie apart. Rodolphus folded his arms across his chest as Lucius nonchalantly took another sip of his drink. "He has never spoken of it to any of us directly. How do we know it isn't you requiring the tribute and keeping it all for yourself?"

Lucius gave him a cold, lips-only smile. "Do you really expect the Dark Lord to concern himself with a matter as trivial as money when he has so many important things to deal with? The Dark Lord wants a cash reserve on hand for reasons known only to himself. Prudent planning, in my opinion. One never knows what the future holds, and it's best not to be caught by surprise. A lesson I'm surprised you haven't learned yourself, by now." Rodolphus's expression didn't change, but Lucius knew he had scored a few cutting points. "In any case, he has entrusted me with the responsibility of collecting it for years, and I have guarded it carefully ever since. Of course, if you think the Dark Lord's plan is a foolish one and wish to question his thinking in this matter, you should always feel free to speak to him about it yourself."

Rodolphus's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Over Rodolphus's shoulder, Lucius could see Severus's features dissolve into a knowing smirk. "I'm sure," Lucius pressed, "he wouldn't mind your questioning him, since you are, after all, his most loyal Death Eater."

"No, no," Rodolphus said quickly. "There's no need for that. It's my honour to do what I can for his cause. You know that. And of course, I would never dream of doing anything that would cause you any embarrassment. We are family, after all." This last was said through nearly gritted teeth, and Lucius suppressed a snort. There was no love lost between them. They tolerated each other for the sake of their wives, but if one of them were to suddenly disappear forever, the other would barely notice and would care even less.

"Excellent," Severus said in what was, for him, a hearty tone. "So when can we expect you to pay the rest of what you owe?"

Rodolphus shifted his weight uneasily from foot to foot, gazing off into the distance as if doing some quick figuring in his head. "Within six months," he said at last.

Lucius allowed himself a dry laugh. "Six months," he repeated, slowly shaking his head. "I'm afraid that's not acceptable."

"That's the best I can do," Rodolphus replied, lifting his chin. His tone carried a hint of defiance. "You can't get blood from a stone."

"Nonsense," Lucius said. "I've been to your vault at Gringotts. There's enough gold stored there for you to pay the weekly percentages owed by all of us combined for the next ten years."

"That's Bella's gold, not mine," Rodolphus said. "It was left to her by her father, and by Unbreakable Vow made before we wed I have no claim over it. I can't even ask her to use any of it on my behalf."

"Oh, that's right; I do recall Narcissa mentioning something about that," Lucius replied with a faux sympathetic wince, as though the incident had slipped his mind and pained him to think about now he'd remembered. In fact, it had been a matter of great hilarity in the family when it occurred. Bellatrix and Narcissa's father, Cygnus, had always considered Rodolphus an unworthy cretin – an opinion Lucius and Narcissa both shared – and not nearly good enough for his precious first-born. He had insisted Bellatrix and Rodolphus make an Unbreakable Vow to prevent Rodolphus from getting his hands on the Black family gold.

"I'm certain you do," Rodolphus sneered. "Just as I recall he left everything to Bellatrix and cut Narcissa and the blood traitor out of his will altogether."

Lucius's smile faded. "Yes. Well." He and Severus exchanged narrow-eyed looks. The interview had taken a decidedly unamusing turn. "I had a small inheritance from my own father, didn't I," he said, twisting his glass of Ogden's against the arm of his chair so the bottom indented the expensive upholstery. "And, more importantly, the brains to make something of myself on my own. He knew one of his daughters, at least, would want for nothing."

"Enough." Severus held up one hand to cut off Rodolphus's red-faced retort. "This family row, while entertaining, is getting us nowhere. You have yet to give a satisfactory answer to my question, Rodolphus: when will we receive the rest of the money you owe?"

"I told you. Six. Months."

Lucius drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Have you or Bellatrix seen Regulus lately?" he asked casually, brushing a few strands of cat hair from the knee of his robes. Rodolphus shot a glance in his direction, brow furrowed in surprise and confusion at the unexpected question. He shook his head.

"No," Severus said. "And nor will you."

"The Dark Lord," Lucius added, "does not forgive."

The words hung in the air as Rodolphus looked away, tongue swiping nervously at his bottom lip again.

"When, Rodolphus?" Severus said quietly.

"I – what if I were to give you some information instead?" Rodolphus said. The undercurrent of desperation in his tone made Lucius want to sigh with satisfaction. "Would that be worth something to you?"

"What sort of information?" Severus said, but Rodolphus, eyes fixed on Lucius, paid him no mind. So. He wasn't an irredeemable fool after all.

"All right," Lucius said. "Tell me what you have, and if it's worthwhile I'll forgive part of your debt."

"How much?"

"That depends on what you have to say," Lucius said.

Rodolphus looked as though he wanted to press the question, but after a set of darting glances at both Lucius and Severus he seemed to realize it would do him no good. He swallowed audibly, nodding, and trained his eyes on the ground. "It's Wilkes," he said. "I think he's a traitor."

"Wilkes?" Severus said, at the same moment Lucius said, "That's rubbish."

"No, it's true!" Rodolphus cried. "He's been asking a lot of questions since Bella and I were elevated to the inner circle, trying to find out who else is among the Dark Lord's most trusted, even though he knows the Dark Lord doesn't want anyof us to know who all of our fellows are. I thought it was simple curiosity at first, but then I learned he's been seeing a woman who works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Just last night, I heard he's asked her to marry him. I'm almost certain he's working with the Ministry, trying to bring the Dark Lord down from within."

Severus's sallow face had grown even more pinched than usual at this news, and Lucius recalled he and Wilkes had been friends during their years at Hogwarts. As staggering as the information was to Lucius, it had to be affecting Severus far more profoundly. "Are you sure?" Lucius said after he'd managed to find his tongue again.

"As sure as anyone can be about something like this," Rodolphus said. Severus turned his back to both of them and moved toward the sideboard to pour himself a drink.

Lucius took a deep breath and blew it out through puffed cheeks. This was bad. Very bad. Yet despite the shock and dismay twisting his stomach, he couldn't help but marvel at Severus's instincts. He'd advised Lucius weeks ago that Rodolphus was in arrears, and suggested letting the debt mount instead of dealing with it immediately. "We may be able to get something more out of him if he can't pay," Severus had said, and by God, he'd been right. Handled correctly, this could mean a pay-off worth far more than gold with the Dark Lord.

"Very well," Lucius said. "I will look into it, to see if there's any merit to your story. If so, I will forgive one-quarter of your debt."

"All of it," Rodolphus replied swiftly.

"One-third."

"Half."

Lucius shook his head. "One-third or nothing at all. And I expect the rest of it to be paid within four months."

Rodolphus glared, nostrils flaring. Then, with a curt nod, he pivoted on his heel and strode swiftly toward the door, robes swirling around his legs as he moved.

"We'll see you and Bella later at Narcissa's party, I expect?" Lucius called after him as he threw the door open and stalked through it. It hit the wall behind it and bounced halfway shut. A house-elf scurrying by with a stack of dinner plates balanced on its arms squeaked in alarm as Rodolphus nearly knocked it topsy turvy on his way out.

Lucius waved a hand, and the door clicked shut again. Severus was pouring his second shot of Ice Crystal vodka, snapping his wrist expertly as he tossed the clear liquid into his mouth. "You should be the one to deal with this, Severus," Lucius said, and Severus nodded, grimacing as the vodka seared its way down his throat. "Check the story out carefully. I wouldn't put it past Rodolphus to have fingered Wilkes based on some old grudge. But if it is true, you know what must be done."

"Yes, yes, I know," Severus snarled. "And if it is only a grudge, you'd better watch your own back in future. If he could do this to Wilkes, imagine what he – or any of them – would do to youif they learn the Dark Lord has never required a monetary tribute of any kind."

Lucius laughed. "There's very little chance of that happening, Severus. You know that as well as I."

"And if it does?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Lucius said lightly, shrugging.

Severus's brow beetled. "There's no 'we' about it. I've been telling you for years it's a risky gamble, that's why I've always refused to take so much as a single knut of it. No, this is entirely on your shoulders, Lucius. And you'll be lucky if Regulus doesn't return from wherever he's hiding himself and expose you for the sham you really are."

Lucius stood and moved across the room. "Now, now, old friend," he said, giving Severus's shoulder a companionable squeeze. "Let's not quarrel. Not today. It's supposed to be a happy occasion, remember? Here, have another." He poured the shot himself, a generous one, and pushed the glass into Severus's hand. "And then go see what you can find out about Wilkes. Is anyone else waiting to see me?"

Severus downed the shot and slammed the glass down on the sideboard, puffing hard to blow the vodka fumes out of his mouth. The fumes were pungent as they wafted up into Lucius's face. "Yes," Severus said. "That Malkin woman. I don't know what she wants."

"All right. Try to get back in time for the party. Narcissa will be so disappointed if you miss it."

Severus's face was stony as he Apparated away.

"Thank you for agreeing to s-see me," the young witch stammered.

"My pleasure, madame." Lucius bowed over the back of her hand and kissed the air just above it. Her hand trembled in his, her grip tenuous, and she pulled away the moment it was socially acceptable to do so. "What have we here?" he said, gesturing to a large, brightly coloured gift-wrapped package wedged under her other arm.

"I've brought something for Mrs Malfoy's birthday," she said, pulling the box free and presenting it to him. It shook in her hands as she held it out.

Lucius favoured her with a rare genuine smile as he took hold of the box. "How generous. I'll see that she gets it." He put the box on the desk behind him. "Thank you for stopping by."

"Oh. I – well, aren't you going to open it?" She fluttered her hands toward the box like a hummingbird flapping its wings, then clasped them together in front of her to still their restless movement. "I – I 'm quite proud of them, it would be lovely see your reaction."

He chuckled, though there was no warmth in it. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty just now, and anyway I'd hate to spoil the lovely wrappings."

"It will only take a moment," Madame Malkin assured him quickly. "I can always fix the wrappings before I go."

Lucius studied the woman's earnest expression and realized he would never be rid of her until he complied with her request. With an impatient twitch of his robes, he turned toward the box and worked at the embossed ribbon and gaudy paper wrapping until it slid away, freeing the lid so he could remove it.

The workmanship on the tiny robes folded inside was exquisite. Lucius ran his index finger lightly under a stiff lace collar, marvelling at the intricate pattern as it passed over his fingertip. The dark fabric beneath was thick and luxuriously butter-soft. Even to his untrained eye it was obvious everything had been meticulously cut and hand-sewn, perhaps even without the aid of magic. Clearly this set of robes was very expensive, perhaps even worth more than the robes he was now wearing himself.

"They're charmed," Madame Malkin said eagerly, "to keep the fabric clean and dry. Just in case the baby… well."

Lucius jerked his hand away as though the mere mention of what might cause a baby to need charmed robes had soiled them already. "I see," he said, swiping his hand on the side of his robes with a disgusted grimace. "Well. That's... wonderful." He slid the lid back into place on top of the box, and by the time he turned around his expression was carefully neutral once again. "They're beautiful."

Her chest swelled with pride. "I'm so glad you think so," she said, a note of confidence creeping into her tone for the first time since she entered the room. "Do you think Mrs Malfoy will like them?"

"I'm certain she will," Lucius replied, though he was by no means certain of any such thing. As her time drew near, Narcissa's moods were becoming more and more unpredictable; what pleased her one day might send her into a crying jag the next. But in the end, it didn't really matter what Narcissa thought of this particular gift. Lucius knew this was wasn't about her.

"Thank you, my dear," he said, punctuating the words with a formal bow. "I'm sure the baby will look wonderful in these."

Madame Malkin flushed a bit at this unexpected display of courtesy, and her face lit up with a hesitant smile as Lucius straightened. "Oh, it's my pleasure," she chirped. She flicked her wand over the box, and the box re-wrapped itself. "Please give Mrs Malfoy my sincerest wishes for a happy birthday."

"I will. And thank you again." He placed one hand on the small of her back and started to steer her toward the door, but she halted after taking a few steps.

"Actually, Mr Malfoy," she said, "There's another reason for my visit today. I was wondering if you'd given any more thought to my request."

Lucius arranged his face to look confused. "Your request," he said blankly.

"Yes," she said, her shoulders hunching with anxiety. "Remember? I asked if I could borrow some – "

"Oh, yes!" Lucius said. "You wanted to open a… " He stopped and looked off into space for a moment, eyes crinkling as though trying to dredge the details up from his memory. "A shop of some kind, wasn't it?"

"A robe shop," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "In Diagon Alley."

"Of course. Yes, I remember now."

"Yes, I- I was thinking I would carry Hogwarts robes, and maybe – "

"Yes," Lucius said again, cutting her off before she could build up a head of steam. When they'd first discussed the idea, she had prattled on for a good ten minutes about her plans for the place before he could get a word in edgewise. He had no desire to hear it all over again. "I remember. And you wanted to borrow how much?"

"Twenty thousand Galleons," she mumbled, her lips quivering around the words as though they were afraid to leave her mouth.

"Twenty thousand," Lucius repeated, his tone making it evident how impressed he was by the size of the sum. He turned away and strolled to the window, where he stood for a few moments to gaze outside. The peacocks were scattered in groups of twos and threes upon the lawns, pecking at some cracked corn the house elves had spread on the ground. The tension building in the room was delicious.

"All right," he said finally. "I will lend you the twenty thousand."

Madame Malkin's face split into a wide grin as she clapped her hands together with childish glee. "Oh, thank you,Mr Malfoy," she said, and for one horrifying moment Lucius thought she was going to throw her arms around his neck and begin to weep. "I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"I will have to charge you some sort of interest, of course," Lucius said, and she nodded vigorously. "I think two percent will do."

"Yes, yes, that sounds entirely reasonable," she said, still nodding almost hard enough to shake her head loose. "Two percent, yes."

"Then we have a deal?"

"Yes, yes."

"Your word?"

"Absolutely. Oh, this is so thrilling, I am –"

"Fine," Lucius said, turning from the window. "I will have someone stop by the shop each Friday to collect the four hundred Galleons."

The smile dropped from her face as though she'd been Kissed. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "Four hundred Galleons?" she squeaked. "You – you mean you're going to charge me two percent per week?"

Lucius nodded. "Anything you can manage above the four hundred will be deducted from the principal until the loan is paid in full. If at any time the payment is short, the difference will be added to the principal. Understood?"

"But... but... that's impossible," she spluttered. "I'll never make a profit that way. I'll be in debt to you for years."

With an apathetic shrug, Lucius went back to watching the peacocks. Dark clouds were starting to gather on the horizon behind them, blocking out the last muted rays of the setting sun. "Then find someone else to lend you the money," he said. "I understand the terms are very fair at Gringotts."

"I can't borrow the money from Gringotts," she wailed, her eyes growing bright with unshed tears. "I told you."

"Oh yes, that great-great-great-great-grandfather of yours was a goblin slayer in the rebellion of 1612, wasn't he." Lucius tsked
and shook his head. "Imagine the goblins harbouring a grudge for all these centuries. Well, it looks like you're in a bit of a pickle, then."

The peacocks had finished their meal and were strutting across the lawn toward the copse of trees where they would roost before she spoke again. "All right," she said bitterly. "I suppose I have no choice."

"Fine." Lucius strode to his desk and pulled a piece of parchment from one of the drawers. He waved his wand over it and a few paragraphs of text appeared. He dipped one of his best quills in the inkstand and extended it toward her, and she snatched it from him and signed the bottom with short, angry strokes. Another wave of his wand and the parchment rolled itself up and sealed itself with a special seal he alone could open. No one else would ever be able to read the document unless Lucius himself allowed it. "Wait in the foyer," he said, tucking the parchment into the pocket of his robes. "I'll have one of the elves bring you the money shortly." He gave her a frosty smile as she turned to leave. "And thank you once again for the lovely gift."

Narcissa's dress robes were the first thing Lucius noticed when he entered their bedroom. They were laid out neatly on the bed, her shoes on the floor beneath the hem where it brushed the edge of the duvet. They were his favourites of hers, a richly appointed set in royal blue he'd purchased for her on their honeymoon from a little shop in wizarding Paris. She'd looked so exquisite in them when she'd emerged from the dressing room, her hair loose and falling around her shoulders, the curve of her breasts so tantalizingly accentuated by the sweetheart neckline, that he'd dismissed the elf who had assisted her into them and taken her by the hand to lead her back into the dressing room. They'd made love fully dressed on the dressing room sofa, Narcissa straddling his thighs with the new robes pooling around them, a cascade of plush blue fabric flowing all the way to the floor, the neckline pushed low around her ribcage so Lucius could clutch at her breasts and lick her nipples as she bent low over him, keening softly. He smiled to himself at the memory, pleased she'd chosen this set to wear tonight. They would go perfectly with the gift he planned to give.

She didn't seem to notice when he stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind him. Dressed only in a strapless slip made of some shimmery material Lucius couldn't identify, she stood in front of the full-length mirror with her head cocked slightly to one side, her eyes locked on the reflection of her own hands as they caressed her swollen belly. Her hair was twisted up into an elaborate chignon, exposing the fluid lines of her neck and shoulders, and Lucius swallowed a quick breath to steady himself. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see him until he was almost upon her, and when he caught her eye in the mirror, she dropped her hands to her sides as though she'd been caught doing something she oughtn't.

"Happy birthday, my love," Lucius said, trailing one finger across the sensitive skin on the back of her neck and down between her shoulder blades, laughing softly as a line of gooseflesh prickled up in its wake. He leaned in to press a kiss to the spot where the base of her neck met the top of her back, kissing his way along her shoulder until he could insinuate himself in against her side. Grasping her hand, he interlaced his fingers with hers and laid both hands atop her stomach. The baby, seeming to to sense Lucius's presence, stirred against Lucius's knuckles. He curled his other arm around Narcissa's waist and pulled her gently against him, and she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes with a sigh.

"I don't think I can go through with this party tonight," she whispered, pressing her forehead into the side of his neck as though seeking warmth in the face of a cold wind.

Lucius dropped a gentle kiss against her temple. "Why not?"

She rubbed a circle on her belly with their joined hands, and the baby gave a spirited kick that made Lucius grin with delight. "I don't want anyone to see me like this," she said miserably. "I'm hideous."

"Nonsense."

"Lucius – "

"My love, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Lucius murmured, pulling her against himself yet closer. "You are as beautiful now as you were the day we met. Even more." She opened her eyes and met his gaze in the mirror, one eyebrow rising in a sceptical arch. He smiled. "I swear I'm telling the truth, I just drank entire bottle of veritaserum," he said, and her lips curved into a smile of her own. It was an old joke between them. "I hope our baby is a girl," he continued, turning her in his arms so they were face to face. "I know she'll be just as beautiful as you are."

"I hope it's a boy," Narcissa replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I want half a dozen that look just like you."

The kiss that followed was gentle at first. Soft. They held each other as close as her condition would allow, and Lucius stroked the smooth fabric covering her arse, enjoying the feel of it against his palms. The baby kicked him in the abdomen and they both snorted laughter through their noses; she tried to pull away but he held her fast, fingers now gently digging into her arse cheeks as the muscles flexed with her movements. The laughter died as the kiss deepened. She caressed the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, tongue darting in and out of his mouth, and by the time Lucius broke away and started kissing his way down the side of her neck, he could feel the heat pooling in his groin.

"Narcissa," he whispered against her clavicle. "Narcissa. I love you. I love you." He lifted one of her breasts out of the slip and cupped it in his hand, kissing the swell of it, marvelling at how different it felt with her pregnancy, how heavy. She arched against him as he drew the nipple between his lips, sucking at it with the urgency of too long unfulfilled need, but he could feel the tension growing in her even as a soft moan escaped her throat.

"Darling," she said, and he knew what she was going to say next. Another few desperate tugs and he released her nipple, licking at it roughly until he could feel her body tremble with each swipe of his tongue. "Lucius. I'm sorry." Her voice was despondent, and he felt instantly contrite for having put in this position to begin with.

"Don't be sorry, my love," he said, kissing her breast one last time before reluctantly re-arranging the slip back around it. Bloody healers. They'd kept the two of them from living as man and wife for months. "I don't want to do anything to hurt you or the baby," he said, smiling at her though he knew his bollocks would soon feel as though someone had scored a direct hit with a Beater's bat. Luckily, relief was only a few hours away. "We don't really have time, anyway. The guests will begin arriving within the hour, and I want to give you your birthday present before the party starts. Close your eyes."

With a stern warning not to peek, he led her to her dressing table and told her to sit on its matching bench. She did so, her back ramrod straight, a broad smile of anticipation stretching her lips. Lucius knelt on the floor beside her and placed a small parcel in her hands. "Open it," he said.

Narcissa opened her eyes and studied the box for a moment, turning it over in her hands. She'd always loved trying to guess what her presents contained. "It's too small to be a new cauldron," she teased, shaking it next to her ear. "And too quiet to be a screaming yo-yo. Hmm, perhaps it's a dungbomb."

"Just open it," Lucius replied, rolling his eyes. The exasperation in his voice was only half feigned.

Smiling, she ripped the paper and let it flutter to the floor. The box inside had a hinged lid, and she cracked it open slowly, gasping as the ring inside came into view. It was an enormous sapphire, a deep blue oval stone set on a thick band of platinum and surrounded by a sea of tiny diamonds. "Oh, Lucius," she breathed, lifting it out of the box. "Oh, my God."

"Happy birthday," he said, placing his hands on her thigh. She slipped one of her hands under his and squeezed, turning the ring this way and that to watch the light sparkle on the stone. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Do you like it?"

She nodded, apparently unable to speak, and then closed her eyes as though unable to bear looking at it any longer. A single tear leaked from the corner of one eye and started meandering its way down her cheek. Lucius frowned. This wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. She didn't seem nearly as excited as he'd hoped she'd be. On the contrary, she almost seemed distraught.

"Narcissa?" he asked gently, pressing the hand still curled around his fingers against her thigh. "Love?"

She took a deep breath then, and squared her shoulders as though she'd come to some kind of decision, though what she could possibly have to decide about Lucius couldn't fathom. Her eyes, when she opened them, were still overly bright, but when she wiped away the tear now threatening to drip from her jaw line, another did not take its place. "It's beautiful," she said. "I love it."

"Will you wear it tonight?" he asked, releasing her hand and plucking the ring from between her fingers. When she nodded, he steadied her hand and slipped it onto her ring finger. She took a deep breath as it slid down the length of her finger, seeming to steel herself for something, though Lucius knew not what. The stone was so large it extended from the base of her finger well past the second knuckle, making it nearly impossible for her to bend that finger at all.

"You'll have to cut my meat for me," she said, all traces of strangeness gone. She studied the ring for another moment, and then, with an excited giggle, she leaned forward and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on both cheeks again and again. "Thank you so much, my love," she said after one final kiss on the lips. Her face was flushed with excitement. "This is the best birthday gift I've ever received."

As it turned out, Lucius didn't have to cut her meat after all. Narcissa hardly ate a bite. She had a few spoonfuls of the soup and a bite or two of the salad, then buttered a roll which remained on her plate uneaten while she flitted from table to table, greeting her guests. Loud exclamations of appreciation went up at each table the moment she extended her hand to show off her ring, and Lucius, who had remained in his seat in order to sample each course as the house elves brought it out, was the recipient of many covetous looks from the ladies and disgruntled looks from their husbands.

"You've set the bar awfully high for the rest of us," Goyle complained after dinner, swaying slightly on his feet. He belched into his fist and took another deep draught of cognac. It was the best Malfoy Manor's wine cellars had to offer, and it made Lucius heartsick to think of it being wasted on this Philistine.

"Too high," Rodolphus agreed. His eyes were on his wife as she waltzed by with Rabastan. Bella loved to dance, but Rodolphus had three left feet. Another of his many inadequacies.

Lucius shrugged. "Some of us are able to afford to give our wives nice things," he said. Rodolphus's chest began to swell with indignation, and while this ordinarily would have been a source of considerable delight, Lucius was in no mood for it just now. "If you will excuse me," he said, deflecting the storm before it could break, "I must see to my guests."

He glanced around as he strode away. Narcissa was holding court in the parlour, surrounded by old friends from their days at Hogwarts, balancing a plate with a piece of birthday cake on her lap. She flashed him a brilliant smile as he went past, and he smiled back, pleased to see she was in such good spirits and had her attention so thoroughly engaged.

Miranda Avery was standing alone in the corridor outside Lucius's office, chatting with the portrait of Lucius's great-grandmother. "Good evening, Grandmother," he said, bowing to the formidable old woman's likeness. She gave a haughty sniff and inclined her head in return. "If you don't mind," Lucius continued, grasping Miranda by the arm, "Miss Avery and I have some business to discuss. Miss Avery, if you would?" He steered her through the office door before she could reply, and such was his haste that she stumbled over her own feet as he closed the door and then locked and warded it behind them.

They fell on each other without speaking, lips crushed together and breathing heavily through their noses as they clawed at each other's robes. He backed her up to the edge of his desk, tugging her skirt up around her hips before lifting her up to position her on the mahogany. She had, at his request, worn nothing beneath her robes, and he could tell from the musky aroma of her she was as eager and ready as he was. She worked the zip of his trousers and plunged one hand inside, pulling his erection free, and he positioned himself and slid deep inside her in one fluid movement that left them both gasping.

She was not a beautiful woman. She was a dandelion where Narcissa was a rose, a polished sliver of quartz where Narcissa was a diamond. Her nose was a shade too long, her chin a bit too weak, one ear was larger than the other and stuck out at an unflattering angle. But the skin between her thighs was soft and smooth and her breasts fit well in his hands, her generous nipples growing taut as his fingers moved over them, so it was easy enough to overlook the rest. She locked her feet together at the small of his back and rocked against him as he ground himself into her, bending over her to taste the skin at her neck, her chest, her breasts, thrusting into her warmth again and again while close to two hundred oblivious party guests stood laughing and talking just a few feet away. When he gripped one nipple lightly between his teeth she cried out and arched up at the waist as she contracted around him, and he marvelled once again at how incredibly responsive she was.

He'd needed this. God, how he'd needed this.

It was over quickly, far more so than it might have been given less awkward circumstances, but that suited Lucius just fine. It had served its purpose; the tension he'd felt earlier was gone. He straightened up, his breathing uneven, muscles in his back quivering a bit from the strain, and stepped back from the V of her legs, adjusting his clothing. Miranda's face was flushed from her climax as she hopped down from the desk, but she had not a hair out of place otherwise. No one would ever suspect.

Lucius curled one arm around her waist and pulled her in close. "Let me go first," he murmured, bowing his head to give her one last kiss. "Follow me out in a few minutes."

His rapid strides had taken him halfway to the door before her voice brought him up short. "Lucius, wait."

When he turned, he was surprised to see her sitting in the same armchair he'd occupied earlier, robes tucked demurely around her, hands clasped together in her lap. Her demeanour was so guileless that if Lucius hadn't just seen her writhing beneath him, he might have taken her for an innocent schoolgirl about to recite her lessons. "I need to talk to you," she said.

"Now is not a good time," Lucius replied. "I must get back before I'm missed." He had removed the wards from the office door and was twisting the lock open before she could speak again.

"Please," she said. "It's important."

Something in her tone made Lucius pause. Miranda was usually very high-spirited and laughed more than any woman Lucius had ever known, but there was nothing at all light-hearted about her now. If he hadn't been prudent enough to use a contraceptive spell on himself every time he saw her, he might have feared the worst.

"All right," he said warily, moving back to the centre of the room to face her. "What is it?"

"I need a favour."

Lucius released a quiet sigh of relief. "Is that all?" he said. He'd no idea why she looked so serious. Favours were his business, after all, and she knew it.

"Not for me," she said. "For my brother."

Lucius stiffened. Oh."Your brother," he repeated. Now he understood.

Miranda nodded. "I understand he has racked up quite a bit of gambling debt. Lost rather a lot on the thestral races, I believe?"

Lucius said nothing. He could feel the muscles in his jaw twitching as he ground his teeth together.

"Fourteen thousand Galleons, if I'm not mistaken," she said.

"Twenty eight," Lucius replied. "The fool went double or nothing on the last race, and he couldn't even see the bloody things."

"My brother is a fool," Miranda agreed coolly. "But not so much of a fool that he deserves to lose everything he has. He'll have to sell our parents' home to get the money to pay you, Lucius, and that impacts my future as well. I can't allow it."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing. This was the type of thing he usually asked Severus to handle, and in any case he really didn't give a damn about Miranda's financial situation. They never discussed money; in fact, they rarely discussed anything at all. They had better things to do when they were together than talk.

"So what is it you want from me?" he said finally.

She lifted her chin and held his gaze without blinking. She had courage, he would give her that. "I want you to forgive his debt."

"Why would I want to do that?" The question was sincere. Lucius hadn't been trying to hurt her by asking it, but he could see by the way her expression darkened he'd done so nonetheless.

"I've told you," she said. "He'll have to sell our home. I have nowhere to go."

"I'm sure that's not true," Lucius said. "Didn't you once tell me you have relatives in Sofia?"

Her mouth dropped open for a moment, then snapped shut again. She swallowed hard, eyes blinking rapidly. "Please, I – "

"No."

"Lucius – "

"Enough." Lucius raised one hand. He had no intention of getting into this with her. "I must get back to the party."

Miranda's face drained of colour so quickly, for one horrifying moment Lucius thought she might faint. But then she squared her shoulders and seemed to make a great effort to gather her dignity around her. "If you won't do this, you'll never see me again," she said.

Lucius managed not to roll his eyes. He'd thought that much had been understood from the moment she'd broached the subject. He pivoted on his heel without replying and moved once more toward the door.

"I'll tell Narcissa about us!" Miranda shrieked, jumping to her feet. Lucius turned back slowly to face her again. Her mouth was tight with her anger. She pointed toward the door with a trembling hand, her chest rising and falling with the force of her rapid breaths. "I will march right out there and tell her all about us, I swear I will."

"She won't believe you," Lucius said. He felt remarkably centred in the face of her hysteria.

"She will! She will believe me, and then she'll leave you, and you'll never see that child of yours, never!" A smug little smile crossed Miranda's lips as she let her arm drop to her side.

Without hesitating even a single moment to think it over, Lucius snapped his fingers twice. A house-elf appeared with a pop. "Go get Mrs Malfoy and bring her to me," he commanded to the top of the elf's head as it bowed low, and it disappeared again without straightening up.

The tension grew thick in the air while they waited. Neither spoke. Miranda's breaths were shallow, uneven, and her hands were trembling visibly as she clutched at her skirt to steady them. Lucius could tell she hadn't been expecting him to call her bluff. He wondered if she would actually be able to go through with it.

"Lucius?" Narcissa stood in the open doorway with the elf quivering at her heels. "Dobby said you wanted to see me?" Lucius extended his hand to her and she took it, and he drew her inside the room and shut the door in the house-elf's face.

"You remember Miranda Avery?" Lucius said, gripping Narcissa's hand tightly in his own.

Narcissa nodded, a slight frown of confusion playing across her lips. She seemed to sense something was wrong. "Of course. How are you, Miranda?"

Miranda gave her a curt nod. "Mrs Malfoy."

"Miranda has something she wants to tell you, my love," Lucius said, leading her to the armchair Miranda had vacated. Narcissa perched on the edge of the seat cushion as gracefully as her enlarged abdomen would allow and looked up at Miranda, waiting.

Miranda cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and cleared her throat again. Narcissa darted a glance in Lucius's direction, hands clasped together in her lap.

"Mrs Malfoy," Miranda said again. "I am sorry to have to tell you this, on tonight of all nights, but your husband has left me no other choice. He and I have been... involved."

"Involved," Narcissa repeated. Her back stiffened a bit as she studied Miranda's face closely. "What do you mean, involved?"

"We've been having an affair."

Narcissa's lips compressed into a thin line and her back grew stiffer yet. Lucius kept his expression carefully neutral, but it didn't matter a whit; this was completely between the two women now. He might as well have not even been in the room.

"We've been meeting every week or so for months, ever since the healers told you..." Miranda broke off as though the mention of Narcissa's condition was the most shameful part of this discussion. Narcissa unclasped her hands and began stroking her index finger across the surface of the huge sapphire ring, her eyes never leaving Miranda's face. "Well, for about four months now, anyway," Miranda continued.

"It's a lie," Lucius cut in. Both women turned to look at him. Narcissa's face was as white and expressionless as a Death Eater's mask. She continued to sweep her finger back and forth across the ring, adding another finger with each pass until eventually all but her thumb were brushing across it with each stroke. "She's trying to blackmail me."

"No!" Miranda said. "I'm telling you the truth, Mrs Malfoy. We've been –"

"Her brother owes me money, and she's trying to blackmail me into forgiving his debt."

Narcissa looked away, down at her hands, watching her fingers as they moved back and forth over the ring. She seemed fascinated by the way it kept appearing and disappearing between strokes.

"I'm telling you the truth," Miranda insisted desperately. "He's been fucking me for months." She pointed at Lucius's desk. "He just finished fucking me on top of that desk not twenty minutes ago, and now –"

The vulgarity seemed to shake something loose in Narcissa. She reached for Lucius's arm and used it to brace herself as she struggled clumsily out of her seat. Lacing her fingers through his, she stood close by his side and rested her other hand on his forearm so the sapphire ring glittered in the torchlight. "The elves will show you out," she said coldly. She looked up into Lucius's eyes, and he could feel the baby squirming against his hip. Miranda stood frozen in place, her mouth gaping open in astonishment as Lucius led his wife from the room.

They walked back toward the party together in silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucius could see Narcissa's grim, tight-lipped frown, but he didn't attempt to engage her in conversation. When a house-elf bobbed into view, and Lucius stopped to issue instructions as to what should be done with Miranda, Narcissa yanked her hand free of his so abruptly it hurt and marched away on her own.

Severus didn't return until after the last of the guests had left. Lucius was sitting in his office, staring into the fire over another glass of Ogden's and thinking about the night's events, when the door creaked open and a house-elf bowed Severus in. His robes were spattered with water spots from a late-evening thunderstorm passing overhead. His face looked tired and haggard as he sank into the armchair opposite Lucius's.

"Rodolphus was telling the truth," he said without preamble. "Wilkes was working with the Ministry."

"How did you find out?"

Severus leaned forward, plucked the glass out of Lucius's hand, and drained it in a series of long swallows. "You don't want to know the details, trust me," he managed with a gasp. "But there's no room for doubt."

Lucius set one arm on each arm of his chair and dug his fingernails into the upholstery. "Did you take care of it?"

Severus nodded, unable to meet Lucius's eye. "Yes," he said wearily. "I also Confunded two eager young Aurors. They will take the credit for it. Nothing will trace back to me."

Lucius smiled as a small knot of tension uncoiled in his chest. "Excellent." The room was suddenly lit by a flash of lightning. Lucius stood, took his glass back from Severus, and crossed the room to refill it. A rumble of thunder made the bottles on the sideboard vibrate as he poured.

"I forgot to leave this here earlier." Severus's voice was very close; when Lucius turned Severus was standing right behind him holding the bag of Galleons Rodolphus had given him that afternoon. It seemed like a very long time ago. He dropped the bag into Lucius's outstretched hand and Lucius tossed it onto his desk without giving it any further thought.

"Will you have a drink with me?" Lucius said, gesturing in Severus's direction with his glass.

Severus waved the offer away. "No. I'm worn out, I need to sleep." He pulled the hood of his robes up over his head and tucked his arms up into his sleeves. "How was the party?" he said, almost as an afterthought. "Tell Narcissa I'm sorry I missed it."

Lucius sipped at his drink. It burned on the way down. "Dull," he said. "You didn't miss much."

Narcissa was already in bed when Lucius got upstairs. The lights were out, but the lightning strikes were coming one on top of another now and the room was a maze of pulsing shadows as the light waxed and waned. She was curled up on her side, covered only in the top sheet; the duvet was thrown across Lucius's side of the bed. She didn't lift her head or say anything to acknowledge him when he came near, but he could see her eyes were open. The sapphire ring was lying on its edge on her bedside table, and she seemed fully absorbed in watching the pattern of light play across its faceted surface.

Lucius took his time about washing up and getting into his pyjamas. The worst of the storm had passed by the time he crawled into bed beside her, tossing the duvet to the floor. He pressed in close behind her, placing one palm on her stomach and burying his nose in her hair. Usually when he did this, she rolled over into his arms to kiss him goodnight, but tonight she didn't move. For a moment he thought she was sleeping, but then she reached out to turn the ring around so the stone could no longer be seen.

The baby was still beneath his hand, perhaps asleep. She lay stiff and tense in Lucius's arms as he curved his body in around her as closely as he could.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered, kissing her gently on the shoulder. "I hope you had a wonderful birthday."