Chapter Thirteen
A/N: Unfortunately, no reviewers.
Three months into marriage, and Narcissa Malfoy could not be happier. Ever since the scare of Lucius breaking his first promise to her, the man had been returning home early every day, bringing with him a gift of flowers. Their bedroom was beginning to resemble a meadow in springtime. Not that she minded, of course.
Yet, the woman still had a feeling of unease. Though she had never seen it, she could've sworn that Lucius had left her side during the night, probably to attend to the Dark Lord's wishes. At least, she hoped.
Narcissa sighed at herself, gazing into the fire crackling in her library. Lucius would never do that. He loved her too much to ever think of betraying her, particularly by meeting with another woman. She was just being silly.
Which meant that, if it was not Lucius that was the cause of her feeling, something else was. And she didn't yet know what.
It was not until the clock struck five that she discovered what the source of her unease had been. She had been curled in front of the fireplace, a book of household spells clutched in her hand. She had hoped that, when he arrived home from the Ministry, she would be able to convince him to learn a couple, so that he could help her around the house occasionally. After all, even House-Elves couldn't do everything.
As the fire died down to embers at last, Narcissa heard a sound, like that of knocking on wood. Her first thought was that Lucius had left his keys on the table again, and therefore needed her to open the front door, as it was charmed to not open by magic, only by the key. 'If he forgets them again, I swear that I will jinx them to his hand.' Narcissa thought, though smiled anyway.
Then she remembered. Her husband had told her earlier that he would be working later than usual that night, meaning that he wouldn't be home until at least half past six. It couldn't possibly be him. So who was it?
When it sounded again, Narcissa listened carefully. The sound was coming from inside the room. With sudden realisation, the blonde turned towards the window, opening it to allow entrance to the shivering owl that had been perched on the windowsill. She recognised the owl as being that of her mother, so she took the letter quickly from its beak, stroking its feathers affectionately before sending it on its way.
She paused for a moment before reading the letter, wondering what her mother would have written to her about. It must have been important, as Narcissa had gone around for tea the other day to catch up with the woman. Deciding that procrastination would never get her anywhere, Narcissa broke the seal and read the words on the parchment.
My darling Narcissa,
It is my solemn duty to inform you of a painful loss in the family, in the hope that you will be able to cope with it as well as we are attempting to.
Last night, your father suffered a stroke. A Healer was summoned, but arrived a little too late. Your father passed peacefully in his sleep, his painful struggle now ended.
His funeral shall be, in according to tradition, on the 4th May, at noon. You know what attire is appropriate, I trust, and I urge you to remain as strong as you can.
With all my love, ma petite fleur, and all your father's also,
Mother.
Narcissa couldn't breathe. How could this have happened? She had seen her father just five days ago and, though he seemed to be a little peaky, he had seemed to be in good health. She just couldn't believe it.
As tears filled her eyes, Narcissa realised that she had never wanted Lucius to be home more. She needed him to be here, to hold her, to take a little of the pain away from her, or at least to give her a shoulder to cry on. But he wasn't here, and wouldn't return for hours, if at all, with the Dark Lord as his commander.
Deciding she needed him too much to not do so, Narcissa reached across to the table beside her, picked up her wand and waved it intricately, trying desperately to think of something positive.
"Expecto Patronum." she pronounced through her tears. Nothing happened. She tried again, and again, but nothing happened at all. Beginning to despair, Narcissa realised that her sadness was overwhelming all her happy memories, rendering the charm too weak for use.
Completely giving up what little hope she had, Narcissa curled up into a ball, shivering and sobbing in the velvet cushions of the seat.
She couldn't be sure how long she had lay there before she felt a pair of very familiar arms wrap around her, felt herself being pulled upright to sit on the man's lap. She quickly glanced upwards, to verify that she was not imagining the figure, before resting her head on Lucius' chest and sobbing once again.
"I know about your father. I'm so sorry, Cissa." Lucius told her, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. "It isn't fair, you know. So much pain has occurred to you in your life, much more than anyone of your age should have, more than many have in their lifetime. You have kept going through it all, and consequently, you are the bravest person I have ever known."
"I'm not brave. I'm just a bit unlucky." Narcissa told him, sighing into his chest.
"Well, you're brave to me." Lucius finished, kissing her once more on the top of her chest.
Three months later, Narcissa attended her second funeral in just five years. Her veil was five inches longer than last time, and his dress was almost the same. But this time, she had someone to lean on. This time she had Lucius by her side.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she was a little brave after all.
A/N: To anyone who's wondering, the other funeral was Regulus. His funeral is one of the filler chapters I'm working on for this story, as part of its refurbishment. Please review!