The rain was beating against the windows. She love storms, particularly those in the late spring that underlined the beginning of the hot and sunny season. They could calm her down as if the water had been able to wash away all her worries, all her doubts, all her guilt. When it rained, she usually drank a cup of tea in front of the window of the library and she watched the drops fall, then she went to their bedroom and she fell asleep, lulled by the pleasant background noise.
But that night.
Narcissa stared at the ceiling without sleeping. It was a long time since she didn't lie down next to her husband, who gave her a caress, who gave her a kiss. She remembered that, when the Dark Lord had had the power, Lucius had been never at home, he had been distant, too busy on carrying on his duties in the name of his Master. A shiver ran down her back and involuntarily, she reached out her arm to caress the empty and cold mattress next to her: something was wrong.
During the dinner she had already noticed something strange. Lucius had been quiet and he was pale as he was not for years. He had been agitated as he had been waiting for someone, his walking stick next to him and he had wore the clothes that he usually wore to go to the Ministry. Narcissa had looked at him carefully but he had never dared to look up on her as if he had been afraid that she might find out something terrible. The elves had been serving the dessert when Lucius stood up trying to hide his pain.
"Is everything alright?" Narcissa had asked him but she got only silence.
"Lucius?" She had tried to insist but her husband had disappeared into his study.
After some seconds, he had been back and he had been holding in his hands a silver mask. He had taken his stick and he had approached her.
"I have to go."
Narcissa had stared at him with an incredulous expression as a mute question that he hadn't understand or that he had preferred to ignore.
"Do you trust me?" Lucius asked her: panic had cracked the voice that she loved so much.
"You're my husband. Of course, I trust you." Lucius had crouched and he had kissed her. A slow, passionate kiss. A goodbye kiss.
"I love you!" He said on her lips, without meeting her eyes.
Narcissa's heart had started to run: her husband was not a man who showed his feelings. He preferred privacy as she did. Something had been wrong. Several times Lucius had said to her that words: the day of their wedding, when Draco had been born and when he had had difficult missions and he had been worried about his own life.
"Lucius, what's happening?"
He had showed a sad smile and he had disappeared, leaving her alone.
A thunder shook her from her thoughts, making her tremble. She stared at her husband's pillow, sobbing.
"Where are you, Lucius? What's happening?"
The rain was beating stronger and, when she was going to fall asleep again, she heard a loud noise coming from the entrance. Narcissa took her wand from her bedside table and she went quickly down the stairs. She stopped in front of the opened door of ebony where a soaked Lucius was standing. He didn't seem to be injured but he went on staring at the floor.
"Lucius..." She whispered lowering her wand and approaching him.
"Will you ever forgive me?" Lucius' voice was a mere murmur.
"What are you talking about? Come, you are completely wet!"
The man did not move, but suddenly he looked up on his wife, meeting her eyes.
"He... He's back..."
Narcissa opened her mouth but she couldn't say anything. A frozen silence fell on the for a moment that seemed to be endless.
"What... What did you say?" She could finally say. She had heard well but it couldn't be real.
"The Dark Lord is back."
A lighting lit the room and the pale faces. Narcissa turned her back to him and she went back to upstairs, without looking at her husband.
She laid down on her bed and a tear wet her pillow.
That would be the first night during which Lucius would not give her a caress, would not kiss her, would not sleep next to her.