Riiight.. uh. I accidently said in the last chapter about Narcissa concieving the child - my dear friend Steph (Lady Clark of Books - do her challenge or get your chocolate confiscated for eternity) pointed out I'd made a scientifical mistake. Soooo, here is my correction: not concieved, BORN. Oh yeah.

Voldemort had been right about one thing - it was painless.

As she stared at the blonde-haired baby in her arms, she realised that she had not yet thought of a name for her new born child. The baby boy stared at her with shocking grey eyes, so like Lucius's, his white blonde hair thick around his head. His skin was very pale too. He looked almost sickly, but she knew he was not.
A cloud of smoke appeared and caused her to cough; Lucius and Voldemort had arrived.
"Painless?" queried Voldemort, glancing with apphrension at the child in her arms.
"Quite," replied Narcissa, with the flicker of a smile. Lucius approached the bed and gazed with wonder at the child, fatherly pride over coming him. He stroked the baby's head gently - lovingly, even. His eyes gleamed with pride.
"Lucius tells me you have not yet thought of a name for him," continued Voldemort thoughtfully, stepping away from the bed and helping himself to a drink. Narcissa frowned for a nano-second, before confirming this. Voldemort raised his crystal clear glass at them as if toasting. "I would like you to call him Draco - that was the name ... never mind. Call him Draco - yes?" The threat in his tone did not go un-noticed, but Narcissa was too tired to care.
"Yes, my lord," said Lucius, answering for her. Voldemort smirked.
"Good. I best be going ... things to do."
"Will you be requiring assistance, my lord?" asked Lucius, looking hopefully. Voldemort laughed coldly - Lucius was so desperate to get on with Voldemort it was sickening at times. His lip curled, and Lucius was silenced. Voldemort approached him, eyes cold. "No, I do not require assistance," he told him harshly, his eyes burning, "And you should tend to your wife and son. I don't appriceate it when men abandon their children to continue life without them."
Lucius looked startled. "My lord, I was not implying such a thing. I was merely wondering should you require assistance, then I will be more than happy to help you, my lord." Voldemort continued to frown, his handsome face flickering from anger to disgust. "Very well then," snapped Voldemort, before dissapearing in a cloud of smoke. Narcissa looked worried. "Lucius ... what did he mean by that? It was as if he was talking from past-"
"I don't know what he was on about, Narcissa ... I really don't."
Temper seized her - it was so obvious he was lying. "In that case ... LUCIUS MALFOY, IF YOU EVER GET ME PREGNANT AGAIN I WILL AVADA KEDABRA YOUR WHITE ARSE FROM HERE TO HELL!"
Lucius looked startled. "Hormones," he muttered to the baby, "I feel for you."
She grabbed a cushion and threw it with perfect aim at his head. It hit him - hard. "Serves you right," she said nastily.

Let's fast forward a year - we're nearing the end of July now . :)

Draco was one now - and he was so like his father, it was uncanny. Despite being a toddler, Narcissa had made sure his manners (to purebloods and family members, obviously) were in tact. "Mummy," he said, looking up at her as he played on the floor, experimenting with his toy replica train of the Hogwarts Express, "Where's Daddy?"
"Call me Mother, Draco," corrected Narcissa, looking at her son with a smile. "Your father is at work."
"Daddy's always working," said Draco crossly.
"Call him father, Draco."
"Why?" He was looking at her with a rather challenging expression. Ah, so much like his father. Persistant, awkward ... slightly annoying. Devious, even. Last week he had been chasing Dobby around the house and had locked him in a broom cupboard, and cried when Dobby apparated out.
"Because I told you so, that's why!"
He just grinned at her and started laughing. "Mummy silly." She sighed, that child took no notice whatsoever. The doorbell sounded, and Dobby hustled off to answer it. Narcissa sighed and stretched out on the couch - she was so tired nowadays. It'd help if Lucius was there, but no, he was always working overtime with Voldemort. And their latest plan . . . she hadn't heard from Sirius in a while. Last time was a month ago. His responses came in dribs and drabs, never constant or immediate. She sighed. At least he was replying, now.
She heard her elf squeak, and cast a curious look over to the door. Dobby appeared, looking fearful. "Miss? I have some news from Lucius, miss..."