VENEER OF ICE

Disclaimer: Everything in the Harry Potter world belongs to JK Rowling

Narcissa Malfoy was not amused as she icily watched the wretched Arthur Weasley (or Weasel, as Lucius would sneer) poke around the inner sanctum of Lucius' study for illegal objects of the Dark Arts.

"Are you quite finished?" asked Narcissa coldly, her jewelled hands crossed delicately.

Arthur flushed a deep red and almost knocked over a priceless 12th century vase. "No, I have not, Mrs. Malfoy. I know that your husband is hoarding illegal objects of the Dark Arts and I am not planning on letting him get away with it any longer."

Narcissa smiled coolly. "I think you are mistaken Mr. Weasley. My husband is an outstanding contributor to the Wizarding society with exceedingly generous donations to charities like St. Mungo's. He would never dream of possessing illegal objects, let alone anything tainted by the Dark Arts."

Arthur drew himself up to face Narcissa with barely restrained frustration. "You and your foul husband may be able to fool Fudge and other Ministry officials, but I know that you both are up to your eyeballs in Dark Arts and that Malfoy's so-called donations are really bribes to sweeten top officials to his more suspect activities."

Narcissa stepped back from Arthur, looking at him as if he was some dragon dung on the pavement. "I think you and I differ on what is foul, Mr. Weasley. You disgrace the very standard of wizardry with your pathetic fascination of Muggle ways. I wonder…do they pay you enough for doing this thankless task of searching innocent people's houses for imaginary Dark objects? I did not think that you and your growing family were so desperate for galleons that you were prepared to stoop this low." Narcissa almost laughed at Arthur's red face that clashed terribly with his orange hair.

"One day, Mrs. Malfoy, one day, your husband will be exposed for the villain he really is."

Narcissa smiled thinly. "Well good day, Mr. Arthur. I think the heat has quite overcome you as you look terribly flushed. I advise you to Apparate home now before you say something you will really regret."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat?"

"Oh no. I am sorry you misconstrued me. I am merely giving you sensible advice."

A flustered Arthur picked up his tattered suitcase—another Muggle contraption, Narcissa supposed contemptuously—and with a pop, he apparated.

Narcissa smoothed her pale blue silk dress robes and thought with annoyance that she would have to get the house elves to clean the house from top to bottom to remove ineffectual Arthur Weasley's handprints and set the furniture right, not to mention she would have owl a complaint to the malleable Fudge about the uncivil conduct of Weasley—though that particular thought of Fudge remonstrating Weasley and perhaps even relieving him of his job was too sweet too imagine.

"Bravo Cissa, Bravo. That truly was a masterful performance," drawled an all too familiar voice.

Narcissa's shoulders involuntarily went up in surprise and she turned around gracefully as if she was not at all surprised by Lucius' unannounced arrival. "I don't know why you keep on bating that Weasley because he will keep on popping around unexpected to make those damned searches for Dark Objects just to pay you back for always humiliating him! Do you know how hard it was to get to the secret passage before Weasley and reset that charm to make the passage impenetrable?" Narcissa snapped.

Lucius' pale patrician face hardened at his wife's verbal attack. "Pray, wife, do please tell."

"Weasley could have found all those things—for Merlin's sakes! He would have had an absolute field day for there is also our vanquished Lord's school possessions and Merlin knows what would happen to you—Azkaban, the Kiss?"

Lucius stalked across the space of the study and grabbed Narcissa by both arms, his eyes glittering menacingly. "Do you think I am that stupid—like that ingrate Weasel—and just leave my house open and unarmed like Honeydukes? I have added a few extra precautions so that if Weasley had got through…well, let us just say I doubt he would have come out again," he hissed.

Narcissa did not shrink down and held his gaze without flinching. "I had to endure three hours of constantly watching Weasley rifle through our belongings and bracing myself for him to come across a cursed hand or an illegal spell book and ship us both off to Azkaban, leaving our three year old son as a disgraced orphan."

Lucius laughed mirthlessly, his eyes hollow. "I am disappointed that my own wife has so little faith in her husband's ability to keep the family secure from Muggle-loving fools like Weasley and anyone else who wishes to invade our home."

"I have already been humiliated and let down by other people who claimed to love and care for me: Andromeda abandoned and ruined our family just to marry some low-life, Bella becomes stark-raving mad and is now incarcerated in Azkaban and—"

"Do not dare classify me with your wretched sisters!" Lucius said brutally, his long white fingers digging painfully into her skin. "I have always thought of you, everything I have done; every black act, every bribe, has been for you and Draco. I have been trying to make the world more worthy of you, purifying it, removing all the trash, the weak ones who besmirch our world, the ones who dare think that they can introduce Muggles into our world—become one with them! I am not like Andromeda who only thought of fulfilling her own passions without taking heed of the consequences it would have on you nor Bella who became insane with blood lust and foolishly thinking that going to Azkaban for our fallen Lord was better than keeping out and subtly working behind the scenes to ensure that the filth of our world do not rise to full power and prominence..."

"Lucius," Narcissa whispered, her eyes softening. "Please loosen your grip on me."

The pair looked intensely into each other's eyes as Lucius relaxed his hold on her and Narcissa cupped his face in her hands, their faces barely inches apart.

"I do not doubt you. I never have nor will," Narcissa said huskily, her warm breath tickling Lucius' skin. "No matter what everyone says of you, no matter what you do, I will always be by you and will not abandon you for you are my family. As far as I'm concerned, Andromeda and Bella no longer have any ties on my loyalty for they have long ago forsaken me and lost themselves in their own foolish and self-destructive passions."

"I give my unconditional loyalty to few, Narcissa—the Dark Lord of course is one and you, the other. I could rapture about your beauty, recite ridiculous love sonnets, fill the room with roses or kiss and caress you in public like some fifth year Hogwarts lout but I will not as the best, most sincere token of my esteem for you is my uncompromising fealty to you and our son," said Lucius, his cold arrogant demeanour dissolving in the heat of his feelings.

For Narcissa, just to see him lose his habitual aristocratic self-control was proof of the sincerity of his words. She did not want to be compared to the moon or other such rubbish. She knew that Lucius loved her. All his actions proved that. Narcissa did not believe in grand declarations of love and public displays of affection. She preferred to keep all those sort of displays in the privacy of her own house. Neither she nor Lucius were naturally warm people and in their more private, intimate moments together, their love was expressed in actions than in words.

In their five years of marriage and their even longer acquaintance from Hogwarts and various social gatherings, Narcissa had learned to read Lucius. When he was around people he considered beneath himself, he wore a cape of cruelty, arrogance and contempt. When he was with Fudge and other ministry officials who he wanted to sweeten with some shining gold from Gringotts, he was silver tongued, deceitful and calculating. When he was with her, he could still be arrogant, cold and hard but also in their more intimate moments, passionate and attentive and always, always, he was brutally honest with her and did not hide the nature of his work from her.

She had wanted to join the Death Eaters for she whole heartedly supported their aims but Lucius had put his foot down and refused to even accept her argument on the benefits of her being by his side in the fight to eradicate the unclean and unworthy. She had wanted to prove to him that she was more than a pretty ornament on the arm of a privileged wizard but Lucius assured her that he thought her so much more than that. He had told her that her sharp intelligence and poise could be just as useful, if not more, in gathering information on certain wizarding personages for it was amazing how loose-tongued some wizards and witches could get at society gatherings or by the Cruciatus curse in the dark which Narcissa was very adept at, having learned from the best, of course.

Narcissa also had an intuition that Lucius' refusal to allow her to receive the Dark Mark on her arm and become an official Death Eater was so that she would stay unharmed and protected from the grim atrocities that the Death Eaters committed. Lucius would never admit that to her even under pain of death but Narcissa just knew he was just protecting her in his own way. Sometimes, when he thought she was asleep, he would caress her cascade of golden hair and stroke her milky white arms and press a surprisingly gentle kiss to her lips. Narcissa revelled in those tender moments in the dark when the rare tender side of her husband would appear because he thought she was in the realm of dreams.

All the fight went out of Narcissa and she rested her head against his expensive robes of tasteful black, inhaling his scent of cologne and high class brandy, hiding a wicked smile. Normally she wouldn't let him win so easily, but sometimes surrendering was so much more satisfying. She slid her arms around his middle and pressed herself against him. "Oh Lucius," she murmured, "I know you do."

Lucius at first stiffened at his wife making close physical contact and was suspicious at her sudden capitulation but he could not deny the intense satisfaction and pleasure he felt having his wife in his arms pressed against him. He traced languorous circles by her hips making her purr in response. She then kissed the hollow of his throat. An unholy smirk crossed his face and he breathed in her delicious scent of rose and powder.

"My Cissa," he breathed darkly in a voice that would have sent shivers up the spine of any other but not Narcissa who chuckled in that rich, throaty voice of hers and rubbed herself against him like a contented cat.

Author's note: this is my first Lucius/ Narcissa fic, so I would like to know what you think of their characterisation or just the story in general.

Thanks!