A/N: Here's chapter four and the fourth pairing: Lucissa. Lucius wakes up in the middle of the night without Narcissa in his bed. Let us assume that there is no omni-present dark lord breathing down Lucius' neck please. My Lucius can be freer and relaxed without the threat of death and greater glory over his head. RxR. FxF.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


Chapter 4 - The Perfect Dad

Lucius rolled over in bed half-asleep and reached across the bed towards his wife to find her side empty. His eyes popped open and although his vision was blurry, her absence from his side was confirmed. Her position was still warm so she couldn't have gotten far. But where was she?

There was a clatter from downstairs and some loud screeching. Lucius sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. This could not be good.

He walked silently through the empty halls of the manor trying to be as calm as possible for when he finally met his hormonal wife. His mind began to stray as he looked ahead of him and imagined his son running around these very halls, his laughter echoing off the walls and the high ceilings and waking up all the portraits. He would smile as Great-Uncle Maximus tore his hair out as his young son drew on the edges of his portrait.

He could imagine being a fun parent, a fun dad, the one his son would run to when his mother was being strict. He could imagine taking his son out everywhere, to Diagon Alley, to Quidditch games, even Muggle London if he could get away with it.

But he wouldn't be too lenient. He would nurture his son but not coddle him, only strict when need be. He would ensure his son understood exactly why he was in trouble or being reprimanded. He would teach him impeccable manners and encourage carefree behaviour, as all children should have.

"I need strawberries!" his wife screamed as he finally entered the kitchen, a house-elf running to get them. She was sitting in a soft armchair in the corner with a a large bowl on her lap, devouring its contents.

"Cissa?" he asked cautiously approaching her, like a newly bought cat - you were never sure if it would bite or rub against your hand.

She looked up, her large spoon hanging comically between her lips. Her long purple silk robe flowed down her shoulders, over her round breast and her even rounder stomach. Her hair was pinned above her head messily, as if hastily done. This was probably the most toned-down version he had seen of her in a long time and he smiled. Even at her worst, she was still beautiful.

"Lucius?" she asked, surprised to see him. "I hope I didn't wake you."

He picked her up and replaced her on his lap as he sat in the armchair. He asked, "What have you got there?" He looked down into her bowl which was half filled with mushy white food and brown solid chunks.

She smiled and said, "Vanilla ice cream and pretzel sticks."

Lucius laughed. Her primary craving had been ice cream and all its variations: milkshakes, sundaes, sandwiches, parfaits. She offered him a bite and he ate off her spoon. He gave her a soft kiss, tasting the ice cream on her lips. "What a wonderful way to wake up."