The next day, Narcissa got up. She dressed quickly and plainly, and hoped the sugar in her pocketful of hard candies would be enough to keep her upright, and she went downstairs.

It was a shock to see the Dark Lord on the landing waiting to meet her. He stood with his back towards her, hands on the railing. But she knew He was there for her, and she knew there was no turning back, as He could not have missed her footsteps. She bowed her head and caught her breath, willing her stomach to stay level. Sickeningly, he raised her head with his finger. Cherry flavor rolled around her mouth as she swallowed hard again.

"Bellatrix has told me of your condition."

"Yes, My Lord."

"And it had happened once before, correct?"

"My Lord."

"A shame. Such good blood, such good blood."

She was trying to remember the old trick, to look behind someone you are meant to be looking in the eyes. Or was she supposed to be looking him in the eyes at all? There were so many little rules, things that she could never remember as someone who was kept just out of his line of sight.

"You will rest this time, Narcissa. This child is worth everything to us."

"My Lord…"

Her composure had dropped out from under her; that was obvious to him. Her breath shook.

"Narcissa?"

"Lucius…I need…"

"Lucius must remain the least of your worries, Narcissa. Go downstairs."

And she fled, like a child escaping consequences.

But she did feel better after that. Not herself again, but that night she had soup for dinner, not just the broth sipped through lips pursed tight. The next day she looked in the mirror and was prettily flushed. Maybe life would go on.

She went to Diagon Alley alone. No one had forbidden it – who would forbid her anything? At the flower shop she paid their bill with most of her purse's contents, trying hard not to blush.

"You must have been doing some wonderful entertaining," the owner swooned.

"Yes, and the flowers were so lovely."

"And how is Mr. Malfoy? He's usually with you."

Narcissa forced out a truly dazzling smile.

"He's absolutely wonderful."

Narcissa window-shopped with her hands tucked in her muff neatly before her stomach, spinning her wand within. It was quite deserted; it wasn't yet time for Christmas shopping, and it was a weekday after all. She smiled pleasantly as those she knew, looked coolly at those she did not. Several stores tempted her but she couldn't give herself away. Imagine if one of Sigrid's horrid friends saw her stroke a baby blanket or remove her heavy cloak for a fitting. Imagine.

But things were not fitting well, and she was growing uncomfortable in everything but her nightgowns. She did some light alterations of her clothes, although it had never been her strong suit. It took as much work with her wand as it would by hand, and she damned everyone from her upbringing for not teaching her more useful skills. In the end she came up with a few sets of robes and dresses that looked unnoticeably different, especially if she wore them with loose outer robes. But she was becoming more aware as time went on that she could hardly keep waiting for Lucius for everything. Having a baby required more than just looser fitting gowns.

Unfortunately, she knew exactly where she could find a few things they would need. In the attic bedroom of the townhouse, the crib was filled with boxes and covered with a sheet. She wouldn't even have to go herself, Dobby could do it easily. But the thought of cursing herself with those things was unbearable, and what if she were to retrieve them and then something happened and…

She made herself go.

The townhouse was a bit musty as you'd expect, although elves came to clean regularly. Dobby offered many times, wringing his hands, to go ahead and remove the covers from furniture and open the shutters, but as pleasant as it sounded, she had to tell herself it would be a waste of his time. She did take him with her, but only to move things back to the Manor. Otherwise, they'd only be there a moment, and it wasn't as if her eyes were too delicate to see a house in hibernation.

Maybe not too delicate, but it certainly was strange. She hadn't yet been back to the home that had lent them so much happiness until it didn't anymore. It was a bit shameful to be there. They should have still been there, really, and if they had been, now they would be waiting on the baby she had wished to have there, in their perfect, isolated world. Instead she had thrown a fit and forced life forward, abandoning their simple homestead for a mansion filled with intrusions and Dark Magic. It was too late then to wish it back, but being there in the lavender entryway made her cheeks burn with her own impulsiveness.

"I'll go upstairs alone, Dobby. Dust down here until I call."

Narcissa didn't stop on the second landing to see their bedroom – somehow, that would have been too much. Under the pitched roof of the attic, however, calm finally settled on her. It wasn't much, as they had barely started preparing before she lost the baby, but the things they would really need were there. A crib, a glider, a changing table, a stack of not yet hanged framed pictures against the wall. All in white for a baby whose gender was never known, whose brief existence was rarely spoken of but who never left their mother's mind for a day.

She sat down in the glider and felt certain aches soothe for the first time in weeks, and with a box at her feet, she folded and unfolded every item of sweet clothing that they had accumulated. Really, this was not a mission where she was needed; she had known going in nothing would be left behind and there was no reason to sort, to touch each piece ahead of taking it. But wasn't this a mother's job, to remember and do things the long way round just to be closer to her baby?

She would never know now, but she felt strongly that her lost baby had been a girl, and she also could not shake the habit of referring to her lovingly as "Andy". Was this where the disconnect between her and Lucius had begun? For she had never told him a word of this, choosing instead to keep their daughter wrapped inside herself in layers of lore and protection. Because she knew Lucius she knew he had his own thoughts and rituals and dreams about their Andy, or whatever he may have named her, or him. But he had done the same as her all that time, never showing a glimpse into that inner world.

It was getting dark, and she didn't relish watching shadows fall in the empty house. She called for the elf and showed him the room and gave him his marching orders, and tightened her cloak to go.

"Missus," Dobby peeped. "Dobby is sorry to bother you, but I is thinking you may be wanting this."

He held up with a trembling hand the list of names she had forgotten in the kitchen so long ago, the one with the name Draco circled in still sparkling purple ink. Narcissa remained stiff, because Lucius preferred her to be that way with the elves, but Dobby was right. She did want it.

"Thank you, Dobby. Now don't dawdle. And remember we talked about which bedroom these things belong in before we left. I don't want to see them in the hallway."

"Yes, Mistress."

Later that night, a great commotion came from downstairs, although it was barely audible over the late November wind. Narcissa had been at her vanity, brushing her hair listlessly, wondering as always if she would be able to sleep, or if she should just stay up and not waste the time laying there in the dark, staring at the canopy.

The elves were obviously not handling whatever was wrong, and a bit of fear grew within her. They hadn't called for her yet, but she was aware that she needed to take up her wand and go find them.

But the disturbance wasn't anything wrong at all. It was Lucius, standing in the open doorway, surrounded by packages and luggage and directing a small army of elves. He had left with barely anything at all; clearly, there had been some success on the mission to return with so much.

She dropped her wand at the top of the stairs, and when he looked up, his eyes met his wan little wife, clutching the railing for support. He reached her before she fell entirely and heaved her back up to her feet.

"Don't do that," he chided, smirking as always.

"You couldn't have written? I'm hardly ready."

"You're perfect."

Lucius, for his part, looked very well, much better than she had expected. There was a tiredness about him, of course, but he was clean shaven and in fresh clothes, hair tied back.

"Where have you been?" she asked, and he knew what she meant. Of course there would be a sting that he hadn't come straight there.

"Bellatrix charmingly let me use her guest bathroom."

Narcissa found she did not know what to do. Lucius was standing there before her, looking for all the world perfect, his hands on her shoulders, and suddenly every script she had practiced was gone.

"Have you eaten?" she asked weakly.

"Lavishly. Let's go upstairs, Cissy."

Lucius had laid her down in their bed, desperate to press kisses on her and touch her neck, her arms, her breasts. Narcissa was trembling and doing her best to stop. But of course he noticed, his hands travelling to the belt of her dressing gown.

"Cissy, you're so nervous. I'll stop."

"No! No, don't stop. You've waited so long…"

"I don't care about that, Cissy. I understand it's been a long time."

She sat up slightly and grasped his head in her hands, kissing him for lack of a better idea. And really, that was the right idea, because the longer she stayed like that, holding onto him for dear life and trying to forget everything but her instinct, the better she felt.

Eventually his hands did make it back to unfasten her dressing gown, of course, and then the buttons of her nightgown, and then…

It was not a very grand moment. Narcissa's breath caught as he paused – really, she hadn't been sure he'd even be able to notice. But his movements slowed and his breath drew in too, and then he lowered his head to plant a soft kiss on her stomach and lay his head there.

"Were you going to tell me, Mrs. Malfoy?" He was grinning at her. She thought he looked 19 again.

"Well, yes. Eventually. Maybe."

"You should have written. You shouldn't have been alone."

She gave him a hard look.

"You know as well as I do I couldn't have done that and you couldn't have come back."

"I hope you'll never have to be alone here again."

"I will be, Lucius. It's foolish to think otherwise."

He kept his head there, and she stroked through his hair, pulling out the ribbon and winding and unwinding each strand.

"Has it been very difficult?"

"Ask the elves if I've eaten anything."

"Have you had new clothes made?"

"No."

"Tomorrow we're going to Diagon Alley. We'll get you a new wardrobe."

"I don't need anything yet."

"Don't argue, Cissy. And there are gifts for you downstairs, of course."

"Of course."

"Imagine, going two months without any new jewelry."

"Almost three. It was interminable."

"And you've seen a Healer?"

"I see you're asking the questions in order of importance."

"I am astounded and confused. Don't tease me."

"Yes, several times. We're healthy. The baby and I."

"You and the baby," he marveled.

I just uploaded a new fluffy Lucissa oneshot called The Steps! Please go check it out, it's a different take on their origin story from the one I present here, xo