June 1976

It seemed Lucius surprise at how quickly she fell pregnant had been justified. Once the healer had given her a clean bill of health, they had cautiously had a discussion and decided that so soon after such a loss they didn't want to risk it again. She'd taken a contraceptive potion that gave them six months without running the risk of becoming pregnant. It had helped them, taking away the strain of worry that they might conceive that easily only to lose the baby again. They had gone abroad for Christmas and New Year. In the warmth on the beach of one of the Malfoy estates they started putting their loss behind them. When the potion wore off, they agreed that what would happen would happen. They had weathered the loss of their child and still loved each other, they would be fine.

It seemed unfair to Narcissa that she'd become pregnant within three months of her and Lucius spending more than the odd night together when she hadn't really thought about wanting a baby beyond the need for an heir. Now she knew they truly wanted a child, it was getting on for eighteen months, and she hadn't been so much as a day late. Narcissa would have worried that the miscarriage had damaged something if her healer hadn't reassured her she was fit and healthy.

Logically she knew that the political situation was heating up and Lucius spent more time at politicking with those he had aligned himself with. He was tense, she was tense, and it wasn't conducive to becoming pregnant. They had more demands on their time. It wasn't that they had given up, only that they weren't making any effort.

Still, in the back of her head, a voice niggled. That as much as he loved her and as much as she loved him if she couldn't provide him with an heir he might put her aside. He needed an heir to carry the Malfoy line, and she was duty bound to give him one. If she couldn't then he might find someone who would. The manner in which the Ancient and Noble houses put their wives aside put fear into the pit of her stomach. Avery had killed his wife in a fit of distemper, and he had loved her dearly. Madame Zabini was going through husbands like fashion went through seasons and while they all died of 'natural causes' and 'old age', more than a few rumours were going around.

Then there was the political situation. The man Lucius bowed to put bloodlines above all else except his thirst for power. If she and Lucius had a child, then she was sure that it would be heralded as the start of a new era under His regime.

Lucius was gone at night, not coming to her until the early hours of the morning the taste of alcohol on his breath. She wasn't stupid enough to think it was all theory and no practice. She saw the newspapers. She knew the sorts of things discussed over dinner were being committed afterwards in the darkest hours of the night.

If He didn't get total control, if the Order of the Phoenix gathered to roust Him, if the Ministry managed to cohesively do anything, then her family would be in danger.

Lucius was already at risk, they might be targeting worthless muggles, but in going after the half-bloods and Muggle-borns, the Ministry had removed the muzzle from its Aurors. Unforgivables were now forgivable if used in the line of duty, and who knew how thin that line would get? When her husband might walk down the street and be killed based on a supposition and an over eager Auror who didn't have any proof, just a grudge and a ready wand.

Could she bring a child into an environment where she couldn't be assured of its safety? What kind of mother would that make her? She wanted a child, wanted one with every fibre of her being but she wanted a child with two parents. She wanted to bring a child into the world where it would be loved, where Lucius would over indulge them and teach them to fly on the lawn of the Manor. Where war wasn't a day to day occurrence, where death didn't fill the newspapers cover to cover no matter how deserving the victims.

Of course, in typical fashion, the decision was taken out of her hands, and she found herself perched on the edge of her bed not two months later. The differences this time were that Lucius was by her side equally nervous and as of yet she hadn't been sick. Though she was aware that she had only missed her cycle twice, such was the situation she thought more warning would be better. If contingency had to be made, they would need time.

Narcissa gripped her husband's hand, they didn't hide behind public masks when they were alone together. In these times they stripped the armour away that they wore in and around other people. They allowed the tenderness of their exchanges to show in words and action.

She smiled a small nervous smile and saw in his eyes reflected back all the concerns she was so viciously controlling.

She cast the spell.

The green glow made her shoulders slump.

She was pregnant in the middle of a war when her husband could be killed in the raids he participated in or by an Auror following instructions.

"You have to go abroad Cissy," his voice was low and hoarse. "I don't want you caught up in any violence, not while you carry our child."

"I won't leave you," she said the steel in her tone daring him to argue. He dared.

"You will, you're carrying our child. I can ask our Lord to allow you to travel for the health of the child. Go to France, stay in the Villa on the south coast. The warmth will be better for you than dreary England."

"When do you think I would return? When the baby is born and is at my breast? Would that be safer? Or how about when they start to crawl? Or walk? Or talk and ask me where their father is and why is he not at my side? I will not leave you Lucius. This is our family, the three of us. This is what you are fighting for, isn't it? A better life for our child where they don't have to live in fear of the Muggles and the risk of the Muggle-born betraying our existence." Narcissa looked at him her chin raised. "You are my husband, and my place is at your side."

Lucius pushed his hands into his hair, gripping the soft strands. "Cissy, the Aurors, they are fighting a losing battle, and they know it. There is no quarter, no mercy. If they hurt you or the baby."

"I will stay here, in the Manor. I will only go where you escort me in public, where a spell fight is less likely to break out. Those are the only concessions I will make Lucius. I will not leave without you."

He sighed capitulating to her as he did to no other and pulled her to him, holding her gently. Narcissa pulled his hand to rest on her abdomen.

Her pregnancy was kept secret from everyone except Lord Voldemort. Lucius had had to tell him as he took his followers keeping secrets poorly and sometimes it was the last thing you did.

Despite their caution and concerns of the danger that lay beyond the walls of the Manor, trouble found them anyway holed up behind their walls.

Narcissa had passed the four month mark where she had lost their first child, and instead of feeling relief as she thought, she felt more fear.

She worried that this beloved child was being brought into the world at the worst time. By the time mid-December rolled in, and the Christmas preparations began, her fears proved to be founded. She started bleeding, and despite being rushed to the hospital, the healers couldn't save their child.

They spent Christmas attending balls and parties smiling through the roaring agony of grief, and the need to burn the world that would take something so precious away. War or not, the child had been wanted and desperately loved.