House: Gryffindor

Prompt: 'well'

Revolution

Lucius Malfoy was ill; and no matter how much he wished to change that fact, it was simply impossible. The inevitable was coming; he was going to die. Narcissa stood in the doorway to the master bedroom watching her ailing husband struggle across the room from the bed towards the en-suite. She knew, deep down, that she should be over there helping him but there was something, some personal factor, that was holding her back. Watching him struggle somehow made her feel that little bit better about herself. In a world of her own she failed to notice his eyes becoming fixated on her; Lucius stood leaning against the ancient chest of drawers, a look of anger present on his weary face.

"Stood there like you have the right to an opinion, you'd do well to remember just whose house this is!" Narcissa stared at him unblinking, shock briefly obvious on her face. When she spoke in response her voice held a spiteful tone Lucius was not at all used to hearing.

"And you'd do well to remember who the person responsible for looking after you is…I don't see anyone else queuing up to take over my job, do you?" She swept from the room, her cloak floating gently behind her, with a look of utter anger on her face. The door slammed shut behind her with such a force that the whole room shook and Lucius let out an exasperated sigh. She had always had a fiery temper.

Narcissa let the front door shut behind her as she made her way towards the gates of Malfoy Manor. Focusing on the image of Diagon Alley in her head, Narcissa felt the air around her move and with a faint pop she apparated. Carefully correcting her balance she took in her surroundings and quickly decided on a destination. When she had left the manor she hadn't really had much of a plan in mind but now a drink seemed a likely comfort. The Leaky Cauldron was as busy as normal but she still managed to slip inside unnoticed. Ordering a bottle of firewhisky from the slightly shocked bartender, she took a seat in the far corner of the room, the hood over her head obscuring her face from the other patrons. She downed the first glass in an instant only for it to be followed by a second as the amber liquid slowly sparked its way to her stomach and through her veins. The sound of breaking glass to her right caught the blonde's attention and Narcissa glanced out from behind the hood. There her eyes briefly met with those of someone who had once been vaguely familiar to her. The brown-haired woman did her best to disguise her shock but it was obvious that she had not been expecting to see her and Narcissa couldn't help but smile. Everyone seemed to be expecting her to stay hidden away like Lucius had; at least that was what the outside world thought. If only they knew.

"Care to join me? You look like you could use a glass of this as well," Narcissa held the bottle towards the younger woman and waited. Her response was a tentative nod of the head in the direction of the backrooms of the public house. Narcissa paused, briefly wondering what was happening but somehow, somewhere within, her heart overruled her head and she followed in her footsteps. Hermione was sat at a small wooden table, set far back behind the bar, an empty glass waiting in her hand. Narcissa sunk into the seat opposite and splashed a liberal amount of the amber liquid into the glass. As she poured herself a glass she noticed that Hermione had emptied her own and held it out expectantly.

"Steady on" Narcissa laughed lightly; this was a whole new side to Potter's best friend. Hermione simply grabbed the bottle and grunted in response,

"Bad day."

"I can see that." Narcissa replied as she observed her companion. The years hadn't really aged her much at all she noted; the hazel brown eyes still held the same quest for knowledge that they always had.

"You?" It took a few seconds for her to register the question and formulate a response

"Lucius and I…argued I suppose you could call it that." Hermione nodded and suppressed any more questions. It wasn't her place to ask them; and besides… it was strange enough sat drinking and talking with her old enemy's mother in the first place. Narcissa sighed and stared around the small room; The pub itself really hadn't changed all that much since she had been in here as a student at Hogwarts all those years ago.

"He's not a well man… and I know I should be worried and playing the ever convincing wife but I can't… I can't bring myself to do it… I just don't care enough." Hermione wasn't sure what to say in reply, the Narcissa Malfoy that sat in front of her; that spoke with such a cold tone to her voice was nothing like the woman she remembered from her school days. This Narcissa was merely a shell of her former self and in all honesty that was the scariest thing of all.