Narcissa was bored, drunk and starved for affection. Her husband had been busy with his work as a Death Eater because, apparently, killing mudbloods was more important than spending time with the woman he supposedly loved. She downed another shot of fire whiskey and laid back in her cold, lonely bed. Two weeks. That's how long it'd been since her and her husband had made love. She needed him. Today he'd promised to be with her, but now he was shopping for clothes. His robes had gotten mangled in a fight with aurors. She'd offered to go shopping for him, but he was too damned proud to let her do that. A man should shop for his own clothes.

Stupid prat.

Stupid sexy prat.

Of course, his looks had been what attracted her to him when they'd first met. Then his confidence, that many mistook for arrogance. She knew better.

He got home at around five. She marched into the living room, drunk as she could be, with her hands on her hips. He raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?! HOW THE HELL IS IT POSSIBLE FOR YOU TO HAVE BEEN SHOPPING FOR TWO HOURS FOR ONE PAIR OF ROBES?! FOR SLYTHERIN'S SAKE! YOU SAID YOU'D SPEND ALL DAY WITH ME! YOU PROMISED!" She then started crying.

"Relax, I just met some old friends and-"

"YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE!"

"Narcissa, that's ridiculous." He walked over and cupped her face in his hands. "I love you. You are the light of my life."

She grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss. "Prove it."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. She took him by the arm and dragged him to the bedroom, forcefully pushing him down on the bed. She straddled his thighs and kissed his neck. He moaned in pleasure, then turned around so he was on top of her, undoing her robes and kissing her breasts.

"Oh….oh…." She cried out in ecstasy. They were soon completely undressed. They wrapped their arms around each other, covering one another's bodies in kisses. Suddenly Lucius felt a familiar tingle upon his left arm.

Not here, not now! He wasn't sure whose wrath he feared more, the Dark Lord's or his wife's.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I have to go."
"Like hell you do." She kept her grip around his neck.

"Please, Narcissa, he'll kill me."

She grabbed his arm and kissed the tingling mark, relishing the warm sensation upon her lips.

"Who do you love more, Lucius? Me or him?"

"Narcissa, that's not a fair question."
"Which one of us? If you had to choose right now."

Lucius hesitated for a split second before he kissed his wife's lips.
"You, Narcissa. I choose you, now and always."

…

The Dark Lord wanted an explanation so he went directly to Malfoy Manor the next day. Narcissa opened the door. Luckily, she and Lucius had gotten their story straight.

"Where is Lucius?" The Dark Lord hissed.

"I'm afraid Lucius is quite ill. The healers ordered bed rest."
She felt him trying to peer into his mind. He got nothing, complete blackness. Their minds clashed for a few seconds. She didn't give way. She smiled in a way that said; you don't scare me.

"Tell him I hope he gets better." He said after a few seconds, no actual concern in his voice, but slight fear at whatever strong, ancient magic Narcissa was apparently capable of.
"I'll tell him." She said. "Have a pleasant day."

He nodded and apparated. She went back in and continued reading Advanced Occlumency-Chapter Ten, Making Them See What You Want Them to See.