Lucius peered in the little window of her hospital room and saw that Narcissa had fallen asleep with her mother still by her side. Druella looked up and met his reddened eyes, and he beckoned for her to come into the hall.

"How is she?" he asked as she eased the door shut behind her. He thought it sounded silly as he asked it, but it seemed like the thing to say at a time like that.

"She still seems very confused, in denial maybe." Druella's arms were crossed, and she leaned back slightly to see in to her daughter. "I'm so glad I never went through something like this myself."

"It's horrible," he agreed, leaning heavily on the wall. "And I've just found out something worse."

He repeated to her what Healer Kimball had told him, and she reacted with the proper shock, covering her mouth with her hands. About halfway through the story it occurred to him that Narcissa might not want her mother to know these things, but he had to talk to someone, it couldn't be helped.

"He told you that in the tearoom?" she asked, and he nodded wearily.

"And then I sobbed like a madman for 10 minutes while everyone looked on."

Druella held her arms open to him, and it took all his restraint to not begin crying again while they embraced.

"Do you parents know?"

"No, they don't know anything. No one does. I suppose we'll have to tell them, but I don't relish the task."

He stared over her shoulder to where a very elderly man was darting to and fro, trying to avoid the Healer who wanted to remove what were apparently cursed mittens from his hands.

"What can I do for you two?" Druella asked tenderly. He had never seen her so motherly before, except maybe on their wedding day.

"I suppose you could go to our house and make sure it's ready for her to come home, whenever that will be. The bed is a sight, I apologize in advance. Just see what needs doing and get Dobby on the tasks - maybe he's already taken care of it, I don't know. You could bring back some clothes for her to go home in as well."

"Easy enough," she agreed. "Easier than your job. I'll just go get my things."

When they opened the door, Narcissa stirred and blinked her eyes open.

"You're back," she said to Lucius.

"To stay," he promised.

"But I'm going, dear," Druella said, kissing her daughter before putting on her hat. "I'll come back later. I love you."

"I love you too, Mummy," Narcissa said, and again he noted the child-like quality of her voice. Druella hugged Lucius again and was gone, walking with great purpose, handbag swinging.

"A Healer came while you were gone. He said I have to stay the night, but I want you to go home and rest," she said.

"That's very sweet Cissy, but you know there isn't a chance in hell I'd leave you here."

"Yes, that's what I was hoping you'd say."

He managed to squeeze in next to her on the bed; it was a much tighter fit with them both sitting up than it had been when his head was on her chest.

"What do I say to you now?" he mused, taking a strand of her hair and twirling it around and around his fingers. "What can I say?"

"There isn't anything to say, I guess, because I don't know either."

Lucius considered that, looking down at her. She was still very pale, and he remembered vaguely someone telling him she would need constant doses of Blood-Replenishing Potion. He sighed, and her eyes flickered up through thick lashes.

"There is one things I need to tell you, a hard thing, and I don't know if there will ever be a good time to say it," he said.

"Go on then. We're already having so much fun."

Lucius was amazed at her resilience. Little jokes were already creeping back into her words, and he hadn't seen her shed a tear yet, although he knew what he had to tell her might change all that.

"While you were with your mother, one of your Healers came to speak with me, and he told me that miscarriages are very rare for witches."

"I know, Mother said she didn't know anyone who'd ever had one."

"Yes, well, he said it probably indicates something very serious, and he said that since we had been trying so hard to conceive for so long with no success, it's likely that…"

He couldn't finish.

"Just say it, Lucius." She sounded like maybe she had already guessed the end of the sentence.

"He doesn't know if we can have children."

He looked at her, but she didn't look back. Instead she was staring with ferocity at the wall straight ahead of her, eyebrows furrowed.

"Ever?" she asked, voice very small.

"He said it isn't hopeless, and he told me about a specialist we can see who can help. I want to stay optimistic, Cissy, even if this is terribly hard to hear."

"So he said never, and then he said maybe."

"He never said never, not once."

She sunk down and took the hem of the sheet in-between her fingers, rolling it back and forth.

"Why didn't he tell me himself?" she asked, and he could tell she was finally going to cry.

"Because he's a coward."

"I want to go home."

"Tomorrow, as soon as we're allowed."

"Ok."

Narcissa's face was a bit blotchy, and a few tears ran down to her neck, but still she hadn't let go. Outside, the sun was setting on the longest day of their lives.


At home, she crawled into the newly-made bed straightaway and asked him to draw the curtains closed. The sun had barely come up and she was still in all her clothes, but he obeyed, and then, unsure of what to do himself, got in with her.

Neither of them had slept well at the hospital, and although Lucius had assumed he would just nap for a moment, by the time he awoke the light coming in through the crack in the curtains was turning dim again. He felt for Narcissa at his side, seeking the reassurance of her presence, but she wasn't there, and her side of the bed wasn't even warm. Sighing, he reached instead for his wand, flicking the curtains open when he found it and grimacing as his eyes adjusted. He sat up and put his feet on the floor. His head pounded with the movement.

"Dobby," he muttered, and the elf appeared at his feet.

"Yes, Master Malfoy?" he asked, wringing his hands.

"Where is Mrs. Malfoy?"

"I'm thinking she's in the guest room, sir. She had Dobby bring her coffee there earlier."

Lucius groaned; he could picture her in the rocking chair, running her fingers over smocked shirts and embroidered elephants.

"Make us dinner, Dobby. Something simple, something she likes. Go."

With the elf gone, Lucius stumbled into the bathroom and took an unmeasured gulp of pain potion, and then braced himself for what he would find upstairs.


She was standing, still in the clothes her mother had brought to the hospital, at the window, back to the door. When the door creaked open she inclined her head slightly towards the sound, but didn't look to him.

"How long have you been up here?" he asked softly.

"A long time," she replied. "I barely slept when we got back, and then I came straight up."

Lucius went up behind her and tried to wrap his arms around her waist, but she stiffened and shrugged him away. He picked up her coffee cup from the windowsill instead; it was ice cold but he took a sip anyway, and shuddered.

"How do you drink this black, or at all for that matter, mystifies me," he said, hoping she would laugh. Instead she just made a little noncommittal noise, and his heart sunk, somehow, even lower.

"If you're trying to get me to leave you up here by yourself, it'll never work," he said, and that finally got her to glance over at him. That the morning at the hospital, her mother had put a bit of makeup on her, and he could see that the mascara had smeared below her eyes.

"You're a good man, Lucius."

"You make me better. Will you come downstairs, please?"

She nodded and he outstretched a hand to lead her away. On the second floor landing, she pulled towards the bedroom, but he didn't relent.

"No, all the way down. Believe it or not, dinner will be ready soon."

"You're cruel."

"Whatever it takes."


They ate a meal of cucumber sandwiches at the kitchen table, saying very little. Lucius devoured them like a man starved, but Narcissa took only a few bites before pushing her plate away.

"Would you like something else?" he asked. "I want you to eat."

"Don't baby me, Lucius. I promise I won't let myself starve."

"As long as you promise."

Narcissa sighed and rested her chin in her hand, looking out the window into their tiny garden. It was really just a patio surrounded by dense trees and a few pieces of metal furniture that no one ever sat in; overall, one of the biggest downsides of their home.

"We should go for a walk," he suggested. "You always like that."

"It's dark, and besides, I don't want to be seen. I feel like a monster."

"If it's dark no one will see you. Not that you look like a monster, because I swear you don't."

"Lucius, please."

"We'll go to the Manor then, and walk in the gardens."

He could tell he was wearing her down, but she was stubborn yet.

"I will walk with you at the Manor tomorrow if you let me go upstairs now and take a Sleeping Draught," she decided.

"Go then," he said, smiling. "I'll be up."

He listened to her footsteps above him for a long time, moving back and forth from the bathroom and the closet. When he sure she had gotten in bed, Lucius left the table and crept to the third floor, where he sent the piles of clothing she had brought out during the day back into their drawers with a flick of his wand. He drew the curtains too, and when he left locked the door behind him.


Narcissa woke very early the next morning, the sun still trying to come up. She was careful to get out of bed without disturbing Lucius, and went downstairs in a fog. It still felt like everything was just happening around her, and there was nothing she could do except watch it all unfold. She wondered vaguely if she would ever feel like she had control of her own life again.

In the kitchen her fingers trailed along the counter. Dobby asked her if she wanted coffee and she nodded but did not speak. The place didn't look like her home anymore, but she couldn't put a finger on what had changed.

She noticed the piece of parchment with the names on it, still sitting exactly where she had left it last after writing the name Briony in the column labeled "Girls" 5 days earlier. Narcissa picked it up and looked carefully at each entry, weighing them all in her mind. Then she set it back down and opened the drawer where they kept spare ink bottles and quills, withdrawing one of each. With deliberate care she unscrewed the lid and dipped the quill, and then put it to the parchment, circling the name Draco (in Lucius's script) in purple ink. She then folded the list and placed it in the drawer, doubting they would ever need it again.

Narcissa looked at the empty kitchen table when Dobby handed her her coffee. It semmed a very lonely place to sit, so she went to the dining room, and then the sitting room, deciding they were both too vacant as well. By the time she had made these rounds she had finished half the cup, and rather than finish she left it on the mantelpiece in the foyer before returning to bed.

Their bedroom was still dark, and Lucius was still asleep, but by then she couldn't bear not to wake him. Narcissa crawled in to bed and inched up to her husband, arms wrapping around him as she pressed her face against his chest.

"Lucius," she whispered. "Lucius, wake up."

"What is it?" he mumbled, still halfway asleep. He did shift a little more to his back, seemingly aware, subconsciously, that she wanted to be closer to him.

"Lucius, do you still…" She trailed off, tears coming to close her throat. He rubbed her back absently, as if he was still unaware of exactly where they were.

"Don't cry, Cissy," he said. "I'm here."

But she kept crying, every tear that hadn't yet spilled coming up all at once. As the deluge went on Lucius gained consciousness, sitting up a little but never relinquishing his hold on her.

"Do you still want me?" she finally asked, voice still congested and cheeks still wet.

That finally jolted him fully awake.

"What kind of question is that?" He sounded truly offended.

"A valid one. You won't have an heir, and I would understand –"

"Narcissa, let me be clear," he interrupted. "I did not marry you because I needed an heir."

"No, only because you had to –"

Again, he interrupted.

"Should I say the same for you then? That you only married me because you had to?"

She pushed herself up, one hand firm against his chest, and stared at him.

"Of course I didn't. I mean, I suppose I did, but you know I wanted to either way."

"So why would you insult me by implying I did anything different?"

Her face crumpled again, and she tossed one leg across him in abandon, straddling him to hold him more completely.

"That's not what I meant," she cried into his shoulder.

"It is what you meant, and I won't listen to it. I don't want you thinking that anything has changed between us now. Look at me."

Lucius took her chin and held it up, forcing her red eyes to meet his.

"I don't want to be one of those husbands who's stern with their wives, treating them like little children. You're much too intelligent for such a thing. But I will, just this once, spell something out to you. Are you listening?"

Narcissa nodded slowly; he had never been this way before.

"There is not one thing more important to me in this world than you and your happiness. If one day we have a child – because, Narcissa, I will not let you give up on this dream – I will love it as much as I love you. But there will never be a reason why I would turn from you, or why my love for you would diminish, and I will not hear you speak of such a thing again. Do you understand?"

She bit her lip into her mouth as she looked down at him, his jaw set and his eyes fiery. When she released it the skin was flushed dark pink, and Lucius gently ran his thumb along the tender place.

"We are going to fix this, lovely. Together," he said, voice greatly softened, and instead of replying she bent down to kiss him.

"I went downstairs this morning," she told him when she pulled away, "and it was all so empty. Have you noticed? It almost frightened me, and I had to come up here just to touch you, just to remind myself you were here."

"Do you want me to go down with you? I'll hold your hand."

She considered this, intertwining her fingers behind his neck.

"I don't think so. I think I just…I want to lie here and feel your skin on mine. Not sex, because I know we shouldn't yet. Just you and I, together."

Immediately he pulled off his undershirt, and then he slid his hands under her nightgown and up her torso, stripping it off as well.

"So like this?" he asked, spreading his hands across her back as he pulled her down to put them chest to chest.

"Yes, this exactly."


There's still the walk at the Manor and lots of conversations with friends and family to be had...I promise they're not going to stay in bed forever!

xoxo