Science, a harry potter fanfic

Peter: [turning down a cigarette] Can't, they smell your breath.

Arvid: Then we better not listen to this music, they may listen to your ears.

~ Swing Kids

Resources: The Harry Potter lexicon, as always. ;)

Dedicated to Cryssa, Happy 15th! Enjoy, just as you asked! I'm not sure what I think about it, but I'm rather fond of the ending.

They lived in a time when the right was so right--when the wrong was so wrong--when the limes were so sweet--when the acid was so sour--when two people could so easily fall in love--so easily get back together--

They lived in a nice time...before it all changed.

If you fell in love in the '60's you'd probably fall in love forever, they said. They weren't sure what forever meant, just knew it must mean somewhere after tomorrow.

But for two people, neither entirely good, forever meant eternity. Far past after you were dead, buried, and went wherever it was dead people went. Or didn't, for that matter. They didn't know where they got their ideals, just knew they picked them up somewhere along the way. Probably winters' ago. Probably years ago.

She never wonders why him? and he never questions their love or their marriage. He knows it's marriage and isn't sure it's love but knows it's something. And something will just have to do...and it does.

It's not really a strange relationship, it's so normal for the two...like second nature. He does not owl her whilst at work to say he loves her, why would he do that? She should know he loves her just because. This is the way he has lived, this is the way he will die.

There's no question in anything and when he says, "You're a good Malfoy," it's only because she is. She knows she's a good Malfoy and almost has it down to a science. Like she has for at least two years.

He wonders if they'll bury them in the graveyard in the back of the Catholic Church and it's a very real thought. He hopes he goes first because he knows he can't go on without her. Not for any emotional reason, just because. She's half of his conscious, not always the good part, just half of it. They take walks in the back of the small church and point out silly names, she laughs at the names on the graves: "I like Narcissa," he says, "much prettier than...Lily Potter." She shakes her head: "Of course."

Of course.

Intellectually, he's half better than her and emotionally they're about the same. Pretty frozen. Pretty empty. But emptiness only counts in matters of the heart and not in business and certainly not in marriage.

"Lucius."

"Yes?"

"Ever wonder--"

"Yes."

"Me too."

They have many years left, maybe, but nothing compares to the '60's.

If you fell in love in the '60's you'd probably fall in love forever, they said.

End