The sun's golden rays seeped through an opening in the luxurious drapes that hung in front of the large windows in the master bedroom. The warmth tickled Narcissa's face, gently waking her and pulling her from her deep sleep. Her eyelids fluttered as she adjusted to the bright light. She glanced down and found Lucius' muscular arm draped across her chest. One hand cupped her bare breast. He held her tight, like a child cuddling a beloved stuffed toy. His warm breath came in shallow spurts and tickled the back of her neck.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to go back to sleep. A few minutes passed with little success. Who was she kidding? After all, she'd always been a morning person. Rarely did she ever allow herself to lie in. She often awoke with the sun or well before it. She wriggled against Lucius, trying to break free of his vice-like grip. He eased up a few moments later, allowing her to slide out from underneath him.
She donned her silk dressing gown, belted it and pulled her flaxen locks into a ponytail. Warmth coursed through her lithe body, and her heart thudded against her chest as she watched her husband sleep. The sun's golden rays created a halo around his head, highlighting the golden flecks embedded in his long blond locks. A small smile graced her pale pink lips, and she tiptoed out of the room not wanting to rouse him.
She padded down the elegant marble staircase and through the long, winding corridors to the kitchen. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and prepared a cup of tea. A small, soft sigh escaped her parted lips as the first drop of liquid fell into her mouth. She took a few more sips before exiting the kitchen, teacup in hand. She crept back up the stairs with one destination in mind.
Two flights later, she stood before the ornate door to Lucius' study. She jumped at the sound of a thud from down the hall. He can't possibly be awake, she thought, biting her lip to stifle a scream. It's probably just the house-elves getting started on their daily cleaning. She waited a full minute before removing her wand from her robe pocket. Her husband's attempt at putting up wards always amused her. She dismantled them with ease. She slipped into the room, locked the door and re-erected his flimsy wards.
She tiptoed across the room, sidestepping the particularly creaky floorboards. Along the way, she plucked a plush, silver cashmere throw off a worn wingback chair. She sat down in front of the big bay window, spread the throw across her legs and took another soothing sip of her tea. She enjoyed watching the sun climb over the tops of the rolling hills that decorated the furthest fields of their lush, well-manicured estate. The exquisite vantage point never failed to captive her. She loved how the grounds illuminated with the promise of a new day.
After all, their situation could have easily been drastically different if not for The Boy Who Lived's generosity. He'd single-handedly saved her family from life in Azkaban, or worse, death. For that, she'd be forever thankful. She embraced each day as another opportunity to prove to the naysayers that they deserved their pardon. And so, she basked in the warmth of the sun as she pondered ways to earn their forgiveness.
A persistent grumbling in her stomach forced her upright. As she turned to leave, a small black leather journal on Lucius' mahogany desk caught her eye. Curiosity overcame her, and she removed the journal's bindings. Lucius thought he'd been careful, but she knew better. She quickly decoded his writings, shocked to see the words staring back at her.
Name after name jumped out at her. The monetary amounts next to their names made her head spin. At first, she refused to believe that the families even existed, having succumbed to the demise of their kind. Question marks set off a slew of names. Possible incentives, mostly monetary, filled the margins next to them.
Her heart sunk upon realizing what she discovered. Fingers shaking, she flipped to the front and immediately felt faint. The writings confirmed her deepest, darkest fears. She pocketed the journal and stalked back up the stairs.
A/N: And, we're off! This story serves as my entry to Bex's Canon v. Fanon Competition, Bex's Chapter Competition and Gamma's Character Playlist Challenge all on the HPFC.