Lucius Malfoy woke up in a cold sweat. He had been yelling, he knew it. It took him a moment to recognize the bed, the room, the feminine hands on his brow. The soft voice, telling him it would be alright. He wasn't in the forest, he wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. He was here, in the now Death Eater free Malfoy Manor, he was sharing a mahogany four poster with his wife, his son was safe. The Dark Lord was dead. His mark would never burn again.

"Shhh, darling. Shh." Malfoy took his wife's hand and kissed it. "It was just a dream, love."

"Narcissa – I – " He couldn't finish his sentence, he was crying so hard. His wife took him in her arms, like a child. 'Like I used to do for Draco' she thought as he buried his face in her chest. "He – Potter- saved – saved Draco – saved all of us!" Narcissa continued rocking her husband. After nearly twenty-five years of marriage, she knew him almost better than she knew herself.

"I know, love. None of us would be here is it wasn't for him."

Lucius continued to sob for his fallen comrades : Lestrange, Yaxley, Snape. He missed Snape most of all. His mate at school, his second, his confidante, the godfather of his son. He was glad Bellatrix, Dohlokov, and the Carrows were killed in battle. He was glad he was not sentenced to Azkaban – again. But the pain of the battle, it was Azkaban all over again. But still, to comforting voice and hands of his wife were there. She was there.

Narcissa couldn't cry. Not when Lucius was. She had to steel herself for him. She imagined Draco was not better off, alone in his rooms. She continued rocking, he continued sobbing. Rock-sob-rock-sob-rock-sob. It went on. Finally, he slowed, he stopped. He faced her.

"Narcissa – I – thank you."

She brushed a lock of now graying hair behind his ear. "You needed it."

"No – for – Potter." He knew the Dark Lord had made a grave mistake in sending his wife to

check if the boy was really dead.

She knew his thoughts exactly. "I had to. Draco."

Draco had told her the whole story: the FiendFyre in the Room of Requirement, the hex Ron shot at a death eater, Molly Weasley killing Bellatrix – he was in the thick of battle when they were camping in the Forbidden Forest. It was his switching sides that pardoned them. She thought back to those final moments. Harry Potter had once and for all vanquished Voldemort. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the boy who survived the Killing Curse – twice – had saved her son, and virtually the entire wizarding world from a tyrant to horrible to name. That night, a change had occurred in her. She was no longer Cissy Black, little tag-along sister to Andromeda and Bella. She wasn't even Narcissa Malfoy, matron of one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain. She was no longer the fanatical purist. She didn't care anymore about who was a pure blood, who was a half blood, who was a mudblood. She didn't care whether the people she associated with had been Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs or Slytherins. None of that mattered now. What mattered was her husband and son were safe.

"Lucius. We were wrong." It took a lot of her to say it. Tears ran down her cheeks.

"I know."

"Not just backing Vold – the Dark Lord."

"I know. The Weasley girl – the Department of Mysteries – Sirius –"

"Never should have been involved, never should have happened – never should have died."

"No."

Narcissa could speak no more. She tilted her husband's face to hers, and kissed him deeply. She needed his contact, his touch. She needed him to know everything would be alright. She could only be so strong. Lucius kissed her back. One hand entwined itself in her hair, the other shot to her hip. He had to show her, show her his love, show her his strength. The laid on the bed, he slowly undressed her. It didn't take long, seen as how she was only in a nightgown and panties. He removed his pajama pants and boxers. Kissing her breast, he entered her, setting a slow luscious rhythm. Neither of them wanted to go fast. They needed to re-establish some of the normalcy that has been ripped away when the war started. She grabbed his shoulders, arching into him, meeting his hips thrust for thrust. They called out each other's names in ecstasy. He finally collapsed on top of her, kissing her neck as he did so.

They lay for what seemed like hours, just holding each other, thinking of what had happened in the last month, of how they survived the last year. Finally Narcissa whispered in her husband's ear.

"Lucius- I love you."

He kissed her shoulder. "I love you too, Cissy."

"Love – we're lucky."

"We're alive, Draco's alive. No one's in Azkaban. I'd say we were."

"But, 'Dromeda. Lost a husband, a daughter, a son-in-law."

"Hmm."

"I'm sending her an owl as soon as it's light, she should come live here. She and the child."

Lucius had also changed. Blood purity didn't seem to matter so much. A year ago, he would have objected to having a blood traitor and a possibly lycanthropic half-blood in his house. But now, now all he could do was try and help Narcissa mend her broken family tree. Which meant technically, as Sirius' heir, Potter should be involved too. He didn't mention that part to his wife. He nodded. It would be nice to actually meet his sister-in-law. And his grand nephew. And, for the first time since he was seventeen, he felt joy again.