Chapter 2

I looked up as I heard Lucius calling my name. I eased myself out from under the sleeping child and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind me quietly. I turned around to find myself staring into my husbands cold greys eyes. Anger boiled up inside me. Anger at him for running the risk of exposing us as supporters, for causing the death of a pure blood Slytherin family, no matter how small.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I hissed.

"Well hello to you too dear," he said dryly, the ever-constant smirk sliding from his smug face.

"Don't you dare mock me!" I snarled. "You could have been caught. Exposed us as supporters of the Dark Lord. You killed, and injured only Merlin knows how many muggles and mudbloods, but a at least one, good, pure-blooded family!"

"We didn't kill anyone," he stated coldly. "No wizards at least," he added as an after thought.

"Wrong," I snapped. "Do you remember the Witts?" I asked, seeing flicker of worry cross his expressionless face. "I thought you might. We met them last week you remember? They had only just moved in. And now, their daughter is lying, orphaned, injured and afraid in that room," I hissed venomously pointing at the door, "because you thought it would be fun to set the camp on fire to make a bloody point!" I took a deep breath, regaining my composure. "And she has no idea that her parents are dead." My voice was hollow. Lucius's eyes widened with shock and anger.

"You did what?" he asked, "What were you thinking?"

"That I could hardly leave the orphaned child of a pure blood Slytherin family, who's life I had just saved, sitting alone and afraid in the middle of a burnt down campsite." Lucius seemed at a loss for words. He glared at me for a moment, and then turned, walking swiftly away, shutting himself in his study. I sighed, leaning against the wall, the exhaustion of the night's events hitting me. After a moment's silence, I heard a door creak open.

"What are you going to do?" I looked around to see Draco standing in the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against the frame, looking at me intently with those shining light grey eyes.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But she can't go anywhere until the burn on her back is fully healed. That much I do know." My son's sharp eyes bore into my own, betraying no emotion.

"Does she have any other family?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"I don't know," I said again hopelessly. I felt so completely lost. So overwhelmed. I had no idea what to do.

"You should probably find out," he stated. "Good night mother." And with that, he turned and disappeared back into his room without another word.

I found myself walking back into the bedroom where Sabina lay sleeping. I sat in the chair next to the bed and a heavy sigh escaped me.

"This is such a mess," I murmured to myself. The child stirred and her deep blue eyes fluttered open.

"Hello sweetheart," I said, forcing a smile. "Did I wake you?" She nodded and I felt a pang of guilt at having done so. "I'm sorry," I said, tucking a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear

"Does your back hurt?" She shook her head sleepily

"What's you name?" she asked curiously.

"Narcissa." I replied. She frowned.

"Can I call you Cissy? Narcissa is long," she said. I smiled at her use of my childhood nickname, used only by my sisters.

"Yes you may." I said, then,"Sabina, how old are you?"

"Five," she replied. 'Just five years old and she's already been through so much. '

"Where's Mama and Papa?" she asked, a little frown appearing between her brow. "I want Mama," she mumbled. I sighed, realising that I wouldn't be able to stall for much longer.

"Sweetheart you remember the fire?" I said, making my voice as soft as possible. She nodded, fear in her eyes. "Your mother got stuck in the tent, and so your father went back in to get her out am I right?" she nodded again, confused. "Well," I struggled, looking for the right words. "Sweetheart, they didn't make it out. The were trapped in the tent, and they died." Tears spilled out over her dark blue eyes, and I pulled her close.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. I rocked her gently in my arms as she cried herself to sleep once more.

When she was once again sound asleep I slid out from underneath her again and sighed looking at the clock. It was three in the morning. I walked slowly down the hall into the master bedroom, to find Lucius awake in bed, reading. I was surprised he had waited up. I walked to my dressing room with out so much as a glance towards my husband. I dried my tearstained face and removed the smudged makeup. I pulled the pins silently from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders in a tumble of loose white blond curls. Changing into a plane black nightgown I got into bed, lying down so that I was facing away from my husband.

"You know Narcissa," he said conversationally, "if there was a place called "passive agressiva" you would be their queen."

"Don't," I said my voice hollow and emotionless. "Not tonight. Today has been hard enough as it is thank you." I heard him close his book, setting it down on the bedside table, placing his reading glasses on top of it. I rolled over and he lifted up my face with his forefinger so that I was looking directly into his steely grey eyes.

"I'm listening," he said seriously. I took a shaky breath.

"I watched our allies die unnecessarily in a burning tent, screaming in agony," I said. "I saved and healed their daughter whilst she screamed and cried and struggled, all the while asking for her dead parents." Lucius sighed besides me, but I didn't stop. "I had to hold her back, as she tried to run after her father who ran back into the burning tent to try and save his wife, and watch and listen as the screaming subsided but no one came out. After fighting with you I went back to her room, waking her up accidently. One of the first things she asked was where her parents were." I felt my voice grow thick. "How are you supposed to tell a five year old child that her parents are dead and that she will never see them again?" A tear slipped down my face and Lucius pulled me close to him and I cried silently into his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said, genuine emotion filing his voice. "It was foolish."

"I was so worried," I said after a while. "About you, about Draco." I sighed. "What are we going to do?" I knew what I would want, if the situation was reversed.

"We can't do anything until she is properly healed. We can make a decision then."

"What would you want for Draco if the situation was reversed?" I asked calmly. He sighed heavily.

"I won't discuss this with you now," he said firmly.

"Just answer the question Lucius."

"No. And I am not having this convocation with you tonight."

"Fine," I said, defeated and too tired to carry on arguing. "But you can't simply throw her out or into an orphanage." 'You owe her that much.' I thought bitterly.