A/N: I ended up rewriting this story several times with several different endings, so I hope you like the one I chose in the end... I felt it was the most in-character for the Malfoys at that point in the timeline. Leave a review if you wish, and please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, these characters, etc
Narcissa's eyes opened once more, sleep continuing to evade her. Almost instinctively she reached out to her left, her hand brushing against the very pillows and blankets she had hoped not to feel, all perfectly made up exactly as they had been since that morning. Lucius had never so much as come to bed. She knew perfectly well the cause of his absence, her thoughts of which sent almost painful sensations through her. Those sensations, she knew, were absolutely nothing compared to what she imagined Lucius must be feeling. Narcissa stood, donning a robe over her short nightdress, and quietly left the room in search of her husband.
She passed through the sitting room, drawing room, and Lucius's own study before she at last saw the soft glow of the lamps lighting the manor library, a tall chair turned away from the doorway. It was there that Lucius sat, deep in thought, a variety of papers strewn about a small desk not far from him. Some, Narcissa noticed, had fallen to the floor, having been cast haphazardly aside as Lucius deemed them useless to him.
"Lucius…?" she addressed him timidly and with caution, not yet approaching him. "You ought to come to bed soon; your trial is tomorrow and you need to be well-rested for it...Besides, I-"
" I damn well know my trial is tomorrow, and I will not be told what I do and do not need!"
Narcissa grimaced at his sudden outburst, though she was not entirely surprised. She did not say anything more, instead silently entering the room and retrieving the displaced papers from the ground, allowing Lucius the quiet he so vehemently seemed to desire.
The man gave a small sigh, much too irritated and much too ashamed to look at his wife directly. He hadn't meant to lose his temper, especially not at her. It was himself he was angry with, for getting caught at the Department of Mysteries with the Death Eaters in the first place, but more so now for pushing Narcissa away even further, at this time when he needed her with him more than ever.
"N-Narcissa…" he said in a calmer, hushed tone, "…I'm sorry. Please, come here."
She did as he asked, setting the gathered documents aside. "Besides," she continued as if the awkward rift had never been forced between them, "I've come to find that I much dislike sleeping alone."
"…I know you do. But if this all turns out as I'm believing more and more that it will, I'm afraid that's exactly what you'll be forced to do for Merlin only knows how long."
"Such lack of confidence doesn't suit you at all, Lucius." She offered a reassuring smile as she sat upon the arm of the chair, not at all caring how unfit for a lady such a pose may have been.
"What did you expect? Umbridge was supposed to handle the proceedings, but she can't very well do that from St. Mungo's, can she? Not to mention they've already sentenced Mulciber and the younger Lestrange… Even so, I've gone over every magical law and loophole we purebloods have created to prevent these incidents from occurring, all to no avail. I'm not sure someone like you could realize how hopeless this case is at this point," he added, the condescending edge returning to his voice.
"Stop it, Lucius. You can't think like that." She took his hand in hers, her concern apparent, refusing to acknowledge the harsh words she knew he didn't mean.
"You're right. I know you're right. It's just that it's-"
"It's hard, I know. And I'm not going to lie to you, all of this, it… It terrifies me as well," she admitted.
He met her eyes for the first time that night. Narcissa had always excelled at concealing her emotions when she needed to, but now, Lucius observed, those emotions threatened to overflow; to break through the barriers she'd so well constructed, no matter how hard she tried to stop them. He had failed to realize through his stress and anxiety, that despite the calm strength and support she showed for his sake, his trial weighed heavily on her just as it did him. It was his fault as well, as he was keenly aware. The way he'd treated her, the way he demanded solitude for the better part of the day, the way he found himself telling her things he didn't mean, they all hurt her and they all took their toll on her; all forming cracks in the mask she wore over her weaknesses and doubts.
"S-still, I can't bring myself to believe you won't be acquitted." When a questioning look appeared on her husband's face, she continued, "The thought of you in Azkaban, surrounded by Dementors day and night… Well, that's painful just to think about." She bit her lip, unsure if she should have mentioned the monsters that guarded the prison. He was already afraid, she knew, and aggravating that fear was the last thing she wanted to do.
A strong silence passed, one that neither Malfoy was inclined to try to break. Their thoughts turned towards the dismal conditions that Lucius would face upon his conviction and the stories told of what happened to wizards who were forced into the prison, both hoping all the while to find a way to assure the other as well as themselves that every event of the following day would turn out all right.
It was hard for Lucius, simply sitting there with her, not saying a word. Every second that passed by made it clearer and clearer that he was forcing Narcissa into a role she didn't want to play. He could tell she was trying just as hard as he was to keep his emotions controlled and to put up a strong front. He wanted to tell her that it was all right; that he wanted her to stop pretending and tell him everything she was truly feeling, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Her tears that would inevitably ensue would only serve to concede the hopelessness of their situation, and Lucius wasn't sure he could stand to see Narcissa as well give up what little hope she still truly held onto.
Narcissa was the first to move. She ceased stroking her husband's hand yet never let it go, and stood up before him. "Come on now, Lucius. Do you think you'd be able to get some sleep with what's left of the night…?" she asked, her voice soft and her smile gentle, only a hint of her fear and distress visible to him through it, the mask over her misgivings now set more firmly in place. She wanted to apologize to him for mentioning any of it in the first place, and to shatter the barrier that contained all the emotions she was feeling. She wanted to cry on his shoulder and let him do the same to her, and she wanted him to kiss those tears away, just as she would do for him. However, that was not what Lucius Malfoy needed. He needed her to be strong, to continue to support him calmly and fearlessly. He needed someone to tell him sincerely that they believed everything would turn out all right, and Narcissa knew that his needs heavily outweighed her wants.
"…Yes," he said at length as he stood up. "…I suppose I do need to try."
They spent a moment in silence once more, at last looking directly into each other's eyes. "I love you, Lucius," Narcissa murmured. "No matter what happens tomorrow, I'll always love you. And whether you return home tomorrow or this day several years from now, I'll be right here waiting for you." This much, at least, was no denying of Narcissa's true feelings in place of the ones she thought Lucius needed to see. It was the closest she would allow herself to come to granting her true thoughts and opinions a voice while maintaining her strong façade.
Suddenly, pulled her close to him and held her very tight. He could see how incredibly close she came to doing to very thing he wished he could allow her to. At a single command, he knew he could have her in tears, her rarely-seen fragility shining through. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to speak the words she needed to hear in order to do so. "Reminding me of that and even just knowing you'll be with me tomorrow… It makes this all a bit more bearable."
Parting from her just enough to look her in the eyes, Lucius gently tilted her chin upwards and kissed her, their lips locking together perfectly, both of them making sure to commit to memory every instant of it, both all too aware of the reality that it could be the last long, loving kiss they would share for quite some time. When he began to pull away from her, Narcissa's arms wrapped around his neck, refusing to let him go or allow his lips to move from hers for even an instant, her actions betraying her emotions.
After having retired for the night, Lucius lay awake, he and his wife facing away from each other. He grimaced as he listened to the heaving breaths and sobs that Narcissa couldn't suppress yet still did her utmost to keep hidden and quiet. It hurt him, as if almost physically, not to be able comfort her, but every time he felt to urge, he stopped himself from reaching out. He clenched his fist around the bed sheet and shut his eyes tight, trying to block out what he desperately did not want to hear and refused to recognize. He couldn't tolerate thinking of her spending more nights like this, without him being there to soothe her.
The next day's trial would be decided in his favor. For her sake, he had no other choice.