Chapter 4: The Malfoy Family Heiress
Her husband made occasional glances over at her from his seat in the library, looking up from documents he was paying scarce attention to. Narcissa sat at a distance from him, on a plush chair by the window wrapped loosely in a fur blanket, a novel lay neglected on her lap. She was hardly sure of the title she had pulled from the bookshelf, only sought it as a buffer between she and Lucius.
It had been a week since Draco had died and sometimes she caught Lucius watching her in her peripheral vision when he thought her attention was elsewhere. Over the meals she picked at apathetically, he watched her with a critical eye as though trying to decide if he should bother to be concerned about her. Other times, it was just before he was overtaken by sleep at night. She hadn't requested he sleep in another room, for she feared that if she let Lucius out of her sight - he might leave her just as Draco had. But she wouldn't accept his embraces or kisses - was only relieved to know that he still wanted to look at her.
Pulling the blanket tighter around her body, she let her gaze fall once more on the beautiful gardens beyond the window. The roses had started to bloom once more, and the perpetual cloud which had rained over the house for over a year was replaced by warm rays of sunshine and clear blue skies. She had heard foxes in the garden during the night, calling to their furry little friends and rustling around in the bushes. Only yesterday had she spotted a birds nest in one of the beautiful cherry blossom trees during a walk in the gardens. It seemed to Narcissa as though the world was beginning to open back up again after years of living in fear and terror, that the skies no longer bore the dark mark and the inhabitants of the wizarding world were grateful for it.
She looked over at Lucius once more, noting how his fall from grace had been anything graceful. His face was thinner and his eyes seemed indefinitely surrounded by darkness, marred by months of poor sleep and worry for his family. He had wore guilt unfashionably upon his return from Azkaban, that Narcissa should have housed the Dark Lord and her sister in his absence and that she was forced to turn to Severus Snape over months and months of anxiety and fear for her only son. His pallor was still mixed with an expression of unbearable guilt, but she imagined this was more to do with his role in the death of their son than Narcissa's anxious disposition.
Draco, it had happened, was killed by one of the Dark Lord's newer followers whom her son had attempted to curse. His death had not been quick, nor had it been painless, for he had been hit with the same curse Mr Potter had hit him with during his sixth year. Severus wasn't around this time to heal his wounds, but Andromeda's daughter had saw to the perpetrator of the curse - firing her own nasty and painful curse back at him. In the heat of the battle, the young woman could not be alongside Draco as he met a premature end. Draco had died frightened and alone, and the young woman, Nymphadora, met a similar end by her Aunt Bellatrix's hand.
Narcissa had wanted to write to Andromeda, to thank her in a way she'd never be able to thank Nymphadora. But how could she ever thank her sister in a way that would be meaningful? How could she possibly when her own dear, if not insane, sister had killed her only child? Would Andromeda even want to hear it?
She focused on her husband once more.
"Lucius, darling."
He put his paperwork down and looked up at her attentively. Although he did not respond, she was sure he was listening.
"I'm wondering if we should write to Andromeda."
"Well," he sighed. "I've been wondering the same myself. Although, I must confess it is for entirely different reasons than you."
"You wouldn't like to offer her some kind of thanks for her daughter's actions? She wasn't able to save Draco, but-"
He held his hands up in interruption, "You misunderstand me. I only think you should consider attempting a reconciliation with her, if at all possible. You see, I'm in the process of transferring the Malfoy Estate to you, Narcissa. You are to be the heiress to the fortune and to be involved in the running of the enterprises, I expect you will take charge rather sooner than anticipated but you can manage."
She was silent, running her hands over the spine of the hardback with a feeling of dread filling her once more, "I always said I wanted to go first."
Lucius moved into the chair opposite her, moving her hands from the book into his own. His eyes were filled with emotion, but his face was stern. Gasping at his touch, she was shocked but did not try to escape him. Gosh how she had missed his touch.
"I'm afraid you may not have a say in the matter. The timing is poor, for we've yet to hold Draco's memorial. But you know the Ministry are going to come for us, Narcissa. I doubt you'll serve time, but if you do, you will not serve long. I've played an active role in the Dark Lord's inner circle and I have escaped capture for long enough. I will not escape punishment this time round, and my only fortune is that the dementors are not to be returned to Azkaban."
She was quiet for a moment, before looking up at him once more.
"What has that to do with Andromeda?"
He sighed heavily, "I doubt our friends will be quick to forgive your betrayal of the Dark Lord's cause. In fact, I wouldn't count on their support going forward. What I think you might want to do is repair things with your sister, for I will certainly be locked away and you will be otherwise alone."
"If I am not locked up, then I shall die. I don't want to be parted from you," she replied, matter-of-factly. "I will not be parted from you."
"You will not say such a thing!" He replied, his grip on her hands tightening. "If I am locked away, if I am sentenced to death - you will go on. You will not be poor, far from it. You will have the Malfoy fortune as well as your own and Bellatrix's. You will run my business matters - you may even wish to take up charity work or a job. I encourage you to live your life as you see fit. Love again. Start again."
Narcissa choked out a sob, her chest constricting with a familiar desperation for air and her mind falling into a pattern of overdrive. Lucius was to leave her. Draco had left her. She was to be the heiress of Malfoy and Black family fortunes. She was to take over Lucius' business. She was to love again. She was to find a job. She was to choose life even though death was far more inviting/
Lucius had pulled the book from her lap and her from the chair, letting the blanket fall heavily from her shoulders. He wrapped her in his embrace, rocking her as though an upset child.
"I'm sorry for everything, Narcissa. Truly I am," his soft and sincere voice spoke into her ear.
"I just can't believe my baby is dead."
"I know. Believe me when I say I am so filled with regret where Draco is concerned. If only I had loved him in the same way you loved him, I should have been kinder to him. Softer."
She shook her head and pulled back to look at her husband, to really look at him. His thumbs grazed her cheeks, clearing them of tears even though the disregarded were only replaced by a fresh batch. He has shed his own tears, she realised, knowing how much it pained him to see her so upset.
"I regret the day I joined the Dark Lord. I regret not being able to protect you from his wrath. I am ever so grateful to dear Severus for protecting you while I was in Azkaban - well, for providing you with those potions and for caring for you when-"
"Don't," she said sharply, eyes burning with new, unshed tears. "I can't go there now. But I don't blame you for anything that has transpired since the beginning of our marriage. I did. I can't deny I blamed you at one point. But if we are to be parted then I wish to part as two people who love one another very much. I wish only for enough time to show you just how very much I love you. And I'd like to have a memorial service for Draco. I can cope with the pain of what I have endured, but I cannot and will not part from you with a single bad feeling."
"Oh, Narcissa," he spoke in a voice much too high to belong to his usual self.
She pressed her lips hard against his, ignoring his momentary shock in favour of relishing in his touch. Lucius pulled away, watching her with curiosity.
"What's that for?" He asked, voice thick with recent emotion. She raised her chin and took his hand, attempting to quash any unsuitable emotions from her expression. Instead, she spoke firmly and clearly her wishes.
"If we are to be arrested and imprisoned, or if I am to live a life with neither you nor Draco, I intend to give you all of my love until such a time comes."
In normal times, they did not speak quite so openly of love. Even in their own home was love only shown through the most discreet of gestures; a loving gaze over the table at breakfast, holding hands during a walk in the gardens and the brushing of hands under the table at meetings of the Dark Lord's inner circle. Never such honest talk of love.
But there was no longer any point in such feeble discretion, however, for there was no one left to hide their love from. No death eaters to mock their love, no Dark Lord to monopolise it. There was no son to be embarrassed by their love for one another, and no time to explore it. She much doubted the Wizengamot would be kind enough to allow them a twin cell in Azkaban, and definitely not kind enough to spare them from punishment.
She would make Lucius understand her true and all-encompassing love for him, come what may.
Her husband nodded as his thumbs traced her jawline, finally looking into her eyes uninterrupted for the first time in months. He trailed kisses along the same path his thumb had travelled, finally making contact with her lips once more. She wrapped him in her arms, pulling him closer with an urgency which had lay dormant.
"Cissa," he spoke against her lips, "Shouldn't we-?"
"I don't want to talk anymore," replied Narcissa, firm in her convictions. She barely even looked at her husband, focused on undoing the belt of his trousers instead. Her hands trembled with the action, but she remained determined.
"Are you sure?" He asked, lifting her chin to look at him. Narcissa's gaze softened and she allowed her emotions through - much like their love, there was no one to hide her upset from either anymore.
"My darling, it means the world to me that you care to ask. It's one of the many reasons I love you so, truly. But in the event we have little time together, I think it's important that we do."
Lucius nodded, and this time their lips crashed together in desperation or devastation, she could not decide. Pushing such fruitless thoughts from her mind, Narcissa begun peeling her robes from her body as Lucius removed his own clothes. Feeling somewhat disorientated at the loss of contact, she pulled her husband closer once more, letting her lips explore what skin he had managed to expose. She could feel his heart pounding dangerously against his chest and his body harden against her own, and she grieved for this man she would likely never love in such a way again.
Her carefully trained facade of indifference gave way to despair, the way it had seemed to be doing rather more often than not of late. Tears made their way silently down her cheeks, but Lucius remained unaware. His head was tilted back in pleasure, enjoying his wife's touch after much too long apart.
One could hardly blame their lack of love making since the Dark Lord had made himself at home in the Manor. They had held one another at night, for fear his easily tested wrath would rear its ugly head at any time, but they wouldn't dare make love.
"Why are you crying?" His voice spoke suddenly. "If you don't want to-"
"I do," she snapped, standing up to her full (albeit small) height. Narcissa found that the more weight she lost over the past year and the longer the Dark Lord remained in her home, the smaller she felt. Not only in stature, but in presence, too. And if there was one thing Narcissa Malfoy was not used to, it was feeling small.
She softened a little, "I'm sorry, darling. I just can't think of anything else to do right now than cry. Nevermind that. Why don't we take this upstairs?"
He offered her a sad smile in return, "My darling, I'd love nothing more."
Thank you for reading and I hope you're all doing well! Sorry if it's a bit of a slow burner, but will pick up soon I hope. Stay safe!