Author's Note: This story was written for The Number Challenge at the HPFC forum. My quote was "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."
"Is it possible to forget how to feel?" Narcissa Malfoy wondered.
She sat alone in her bed, her legs bent up, her back straight against the headboard. The candle that sat on the table next to her flickered, its flame threatening to go out and take all the hazy light with it. A noise, the distant rumble of raised voices, came from downstairs and Narcissa found herself reaching for the wedding ring around her finger. She twisted the gold band around nervously, as if the action would somehow summon the one who wore the twin. Her husband was down in the dining hall and that worried her. And yet, though she knew it worried her, she felt nothing. Experience told her that she would feel that way in situations like this, situations in which the honour and safety of her husband and son were being compromised. However her face remained blank, her eyes continued to stare at the same place on the wall, her heart neither slowed nor quickened and her only movement was the rhythmic twisting of her ring. And that was why she asked if one could forget, no, lose the ability to feel. Because Narcissa did not think she had truly felt something in quite a long time.
A strand of pale blonde hair had fallen across her eyes, but she did not reach up to put it back in its place. Her hair had been arranged in an elegant pile of coils at the beginning of the evening, but this had deteriorated as time went on. Recently, the witch had begun to care less about how she appeared. Her porcelain skin was whiter than it had been a year or so ago. Her cheekbones were more prominent, her face appearing more angular because of it. Last year she had been curvy, now her body was sharper, slimmer. Her eyes, a gentle shade of blue, had lost some of the luster that she had been known for as a girl. She looked over all older, like the strain was finally getting to her and the surface was going to crack.
Most of the strain was caused by the transformation of her dwelling from house to headquarters. While she had once called many of them friends, the Death Eaters were becoming a burden that she just couldn't deal with alone. She was not one herself, nor had she ever planned on becoming one. They were too cold, too ruthless and she knew what they could do. Narcissa had seen what they did to her husband. Once a respected member of the group, Lucius Malfoy was now only looked upon as a resource, someone to house and hide. His spirit had been beaten at Azkaban, but it had been well and truly crushed by the upheaval of his household, the removal of his wand and the constant taunting from all the other Death Eaters. Narcissa had seen him looking at his tattooed forearm as though he would like to tear it off with his own teeth. If she thought she could, she would've ripped it off for him; she had no loyalty to that mark, all she cared about was the safety of her family. But they couldn't leave, not now that they were in so deep.
The door to the bedroom creaked open and Lucius Malfoy entered. Sighing as he shut the door, he dragged his feet across the floor and slumped down on the bed beside his wife. He was looking about a million times worse; his hair, once pale blonde and beautiful, was now dirty and straggly. His eyes had dark circles underneath them and his eyelids drooped slightly, as if he might fall asleep at any moment. He smelt slightly of whisky and it was sad to see the proud aristocrat so heavily disheveled.
"You're not sleeping." Lucius commented.
"I never sleep anymore." Narcissa replied, lazily turning her head to stare at him.
"I know." he said quietly. "I'm sorry."
Narcissa let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. Lucius never stopped apologizing and mostly it drove her up the wall.
"Yes, I know, I know." he said. "I'm perfectly pathetic. How is it you manage to stay with me?"
"You know, I'm not sure." Narcissa said.
From the corner of her eye, she watched his reaction to this statement. He looked up at her, frowned, opened his mouth, closed it, seemed to be working out whether or not she was joking, failed and ended up looking down at the bedsheets, a grim expression on his face. Despite herself, she gave a small laugh which seemed to appease him slightly.
"Do you remember that party, the one where we met?" she asked, her eyes brightening as she remembered. "Do you remember what you said to me?"
"I'm not sure I want to remember." Lucius answered dryly.
"You said "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."" Narcissa quoted.
Lucius smirked, "I was an young, arrogant prat, just trying to impress you."
"Maybe." Narcissa said. "But everyday is an adventure with you."
"That's nice."
"I didn't say they were all good adventures."
"Oh."
The pair sat in silence for a while, before Lucius asked, "does the adventure ever get too much for you?"
"That doesn't really matter." Narcissa said slowly. "I've made my bed and, as long as you are there, I'll be content to lie in it."
Lucius smiled sadly and said in croaky voice, "I don't deserve you."
"No, you don't." she smiled. "You're really very lucky I like you so much."
The candle on the bedside table was getting smaller as every second passed. There was no from downstairs, the silence perhaps announcing the departure of all their "guests". It was undoubtedly nighttime now, but Narcissa was far from sleeping.
"What about you?" she asked suddenly.
"What are you talking about?" Lucius said sharply, immediately more alert.
"Does it ever get too much?" she said. "Do you ever wish you'd never done it all?"
"I am faithful." he replied coldly, though his voice faltered towards the end of the sacred word.
"Are you?" Narcissa said, her eyes darting down to the sleeve that hid his mark. "I've seen you look at that thing as though you would cut your whole arm off just to be rid of it."
When Lucius didn't answer, Narcissa continued to speak.
"You sit there in those meetings and I can tell you're not happy. You want it be over just as much as I do. You're frightened of them."
"Enough, woman!" Lucius roared. "I am not a coward!"
"I never said that." she yelled. "You are a coward if you run. You are not if you admit you are scared but continue regardless. So far, you have done neither."
"I am not afraid." Lucius hissed.
"I don't believe that."
"I am not afraid."
"Then you're a fool." Narcissa whispered. "You should be."
She lay down and turned over, so she wasn't facing her husband. With a sharp and angry breath, she blew out the candle and the room was cloaked in darkness. Before long, she felt Lucius lie down too. She felt his arms going around her and she felt his hands shaking. He was scared, what ever he might say, and that scared her. But at least she could feel it.