DISCLAIMER: Fan-made. Don't sue me.
Author's Note: This story takes place during the fall of 1990. (Pre-Sorcerer's Stone)
Narcissa Malfoy snuck in the front door of the Manor as quietly as was possible. Her heart was beating quicker than usual. She glanced around before scurrying across the hall to the back stairs, taking the least-traveled path through the house. What a crummy day this had been. What a stupid, awful day.
If she could only manage not to meet up with her husband or son in the next few minutes, maybe there was a chance of the day improving. If she did meet up with either of them, though, it would likely get decidedly worse.
She tiptoed down the hall, nearly to her and Lucius's private rooms. Opening the door slowly, Narcissa peeked in before entering. Their private sitting room was empty. Narcissa relaxed a little bit. Maybe everything would be all right, after all. She headed toward the bedroom, pulling off her gloves as she went.
And just as she let her guard down, the door she had just come through swung open. "Lucius!" she exclaimed, a little too abruptly. She gathered herself, adding more smoothly, "I didn't see you coming upstairs."
Her husband was shedding his jacket, and laid it over the back of a chair. He looked over at her. "Did you just get in?"
Narcissa kept herself turned partway away from him, and remained across the room. "Yes," she answered simply. She wanted to smack herself for not realizing that he could be coming up the front stairs while she went around the back.
"Did you take that copy over to my father?" he asked. Narcissa swallowed and nodded, tensing slightly at the mention of her errand. Abraxas Malfoy had completed his will and given a copy to Lucius to look over, but then the old man had insisted he wanted it back. Of course, it had to be hand-delivered; no owl or house-elf could be trusted with such an important document.
Lucius took a few steps toward her, closing some of the distance between them. "I didn't realize I'd be home so early, or I would have done it myself," he said apologetically.
Narcissa took a step away from him nervously. "It was no trouble." She started into their bedroom again. "I've actually got to go to the loo, would you excuse me for a minute?"
He smiled slightly. "What, can't even give your husband a kiss hello?"
She backed away another step, shrugging. "Afraid not." She turned and meant to bolt for their bathroom, but Lucius caught her by the wrist and pulled her to him.
In a last-ditch attempt to distract him, Narcissa tilted her head to the side slightly and kissed him. It was a much more lingering and passionate kiss than a mere 'hello,' but she wanted to be certain that he closed his eyes. Then just as quickly as it had begun, Narcissa ended the kiss and pulled away from him.
Unfortunately, her plan backfired. Lucius did not release her wrist, but instead drew her back in to kiss her again. Narcissa's heart sank as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
Lucius's affectionate grin suddenly fell as he looked down at her. He lifted a hand to gently trace her left cheek, where a bright red mark glowed painfully on her skin. Narcissa watched his cool gray eyes harden and narrow into a very dangerous expression. "Lucius," she said carefully, holding on to his upper arms.
"Oh no," he murmured, shaking his head ever so slightly. Narcissa could feel his muscles tightening. She rubbed his arms gently.
"Lucius, it's all right," she said calmly, trying to make him listen to her.
But he was already in a rage. He let go of her and stormed across the room toward the door. Narcissa chased after him and grabbed his arm tightly. "Lucius, don't," she insisted harshly, pulling him back toward her.
Her husband let her stop him, but did not calm down. "No," he fumed. "I will not stand for this!" His expression was angrier than any she'd ever seen him wear.
"Lucius," Narcissa said firmly, trying to soothe him, "Just calm down."
He was shaking with his anger. "I'll kill him," he growled.
She squeezed his arm tighter. "I know," she said seriously. She knew he was entirely in earnest when he said that. "I know, but you mustn't." Narcissa towed him toward her, hand over hand up his arm until he was close.
Her husband was unappeasable. "Why? Give me one good reason why!" Lucius demanded.
Narcissa did not relinquish her hold. "He's your father," she responded calmly.
Lucius shook his head, trying to pull away from her. "Not anymore, he's not. I've put up with a lot, more than I should have, but not this. Not this, Narcissa, I won't put up with this!"
"Lucius," she exhorted him, raising her voice slightly, "He's an old man. He's sick. He's dying." Narcissa put a hand on his cheek, trying to pacify him. "He's confused, Lucius; I don't think he even knew who I was."
"Oh, he knew who you were, Cissa! That's just him being spiteful."
"No," she insisted gently, "Really, darling. His mind is going. He kept asking for your mother."
Lucius made an unpleasant face. "Really." He looked away from her. "Twenty years later and he still wants to lay into her, eh?"
Narcissa pursed her lips. Perhaps she should not have mentioned his mother. She knew this was very hard for Lucius; he loathed his father to the very core, and it was only out of some deep-seated fear or duty that he had not cut ties with the man.
She brushed her fingers against his cheek. "Let this go, darling. He's not going to last much longer. There's no need to start a fight with a demented old man."
Her husband's face was flushed with emotion. He looked down at her, and Narcissa thought he might be about to cry. "He has awfully good aim for being so confused," he said through his teeth. Narcissa could not deny that; it had been quite a solid blow. Lucius traced her jaw with his thumb, examining her cheek again. His expression was pained. "I can't let him get away with this, Cissa, I can't let him leave handprints on you like this..." Lucius trailed off, and started to draw away from her again, but Narcissa easily held on to him.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Listen," she said gently. "I'll put some anti-bruising ointment on it, and it'll be as good as new. I'm fine." She kissed him briefly, then looked him in the eyes. "It's not worth getting upset about it."
Lucius studied her for a few moments, brooding over her advice. "You're not going over there alone ever again," he declared.
"You're absolutely right about that," Narcissa agreed. It may not be worth getting upset about, but she certainly was not going to invite a repeat performance.
Her husband nodded. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.
"It's not your fault," Narcissa answered.
He rubbed her back. "No, it is," he disagreed. "I shouldn't have sent you over there, I should have taken care of it myself."
Narcissa looked at him warmly. "Well... make it up to me tonight," she suggested, kissing him tenderly. His lips were soft and gentle against hers.
Lucius raised his eyebrows. "I'll make it up to you right now," he said, pulling her closer against him, possessively.
She smiled. "Tempting," she teased, giving him another peck. Maybe this day would turn out all right after all. "Let me take care of this first," she added, touching her cheek, "And then I'll come back and give your offer more serious consideration."
END
Author's note: The plot bunnies keep attacking! I've always kind of thought that Lucius's father was a mean old man, and this just kind of popped into my head. Please read and review! I sure do love me some reviews! :)