A/N: The Malfoys during the first war has always been a point of interest for me within the HP fandom; I'm glad I was able to explore that just a bit more with this one. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, setting, etc

She gazed with loving eyes down at her infant son, fast asleep. Though she'd turned but twenty-six that very day, looking at him and recalling everything that had occurred since his birth almost one year prior, she felt as if she was much older; that the war her husband was fighting had been raging much longer. It had been more difficult than ever to care for the boy, but she had known from the moment the Healers had allowed her to hold him, that there was nothing - absolutely nothing - she wouldn't do for him. It was he who had provided her with courage enough to stay strong throughout the war, as well as pray for its swift end.

Her reverie was broken by a hard knocking upon the manor doors below.

Instantly, with every knock, a wave of new thoughts flooded through her head.

"Mrs. Malfoy, your husband has fallen in battle at the hands of the enemy Aurors…"

"Mrs. Malfoy, on suspicion of being in close association with the Death Eaters, you are to be held in Azkaban Prison until a trial may be arranged…"

"Mrs. Malfoy, many have been killed on either side in the recent battles, and your husband's whereabouts are currently unknown…"

Narcissa shook these horrible thoughts from her mind, casting them off as improbably and ridiculous, and steeled herself. As the sound at the manor's lower floors persisted, she looked from the door to the sleeping boy near her. She knew not of her visitor's intent, and she would take no risks by bringing him into a situation she wasn't certain was safe.

"Mummy will be right back, Draco," she whispered, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Wand in hand, she opened the large doors just a crack to identify the visitor. One man, his face concealed by a dark cloak, the very same worn by the Death Eaters, stood before her.

"Mrs. Malfoy…?" asked a voice that Narcissa found to be very familiar; that of an ally. A jolt ran through Narcissa's heart like lightning. "A message, from Lucius." He withdrew from his robes a small folded piece of parchment and handed it to her.

"Th-thank you…" she said quietly as she accepted it with shaking hands, only able to hope that his words to her were favorable ones.

With a brisk nod, as if to confirm that she'd received the note, the man Disapparated from the manor doorstep, his mission completed.

Slowly, she returned to the room she currently shared with Draco, her eyes remaining fixed upon the parchment. She was anxious to unfold it, not having the slightest idea of its contents. Her earlier thoughts began to penetrate her mind once more with her anticipation, and, her nerves mounted, she took a deep breath an opened the letter.

What she read immediately sent tears pouring down her cheeks. The few words on that page brought back to her every time through this hellish war that Lucius told her he loved her, every time he implored her to have confidence in him, every time her tears would force their way back to her eyes when he had to leave the manor, every time he held her and kissed her, telling her that everything would be back to normal soon.

With feeble attempts to dry her tears, Narcissa sank down in the chair near her sleeping son. "Draco…" came her choked whisper, "It won't be long now, not long at all… Your father will be home soon."

Narcissa,

I hope that despite everything, your birthday has been a happy one. It comes but once a year; you certainly deserve for it to be pleasant.

I deeply regret that I've nothing to give you this year except a promise: I'll be coming home soon - this time, for good.

All my love,

- Lucius