The Female of the Species
Chapter 2
Lucius was lying in his four-poster bed. Narcissa sat beside him, scanning his face anxiously for signs of returning consciousness. He was now warm, wrapped in brushed cotton sheets, lambswool blankets and an eiderdown, with a fire crackling in the grate. Narcissa herself had chafed his hands and feet to restore the circulation, while a house elf wet his parched mouth, and fed him drops of water through his cracked lips with a sponge, slowly so as not to choke him. Natural colour had finally returned to his grey skin. Narcissa thanked the Fates that she had once trained as a mediwitch. She would have been loath to invite another witch or wizard to examine Lucius: knowing her husband as she did, she could not be sure that whatever was in the dungeons had not been placed there by him, and it may well be a creature whose possession was banned by wizarding law. Narcissa had determined that Lucius' unconsciousness was at least partly due to a blow on the side of his head, no doubt caused when he hit the stone floor. There was dried blood matting Lucius' hair, but when she had examined him and cleaned the wound, she found he had not broken any bones.
As she stared at Lucius, Narcissa's mind began to wander. She thought over her life with this wizard: he was enigmatic, cruel, self-centred and arrogant; he could be exceedingly generous on occasion; above all he was beautiful, even in his present condition.
Lucius had been Narcissa's first love in every sense of the word, taking her virginity on the slopes of Ben Foy when she was fourteen and he sixteen. His youthful beauty had spoiled her for any other boy, and when he had asked her to marry him she had accepted, entranced, hardly daring to believe that he would be hers forever. In the beginning, it had been bliss, and they had been inseparable, making love often and everywhere, including in the open air and in the darkest of the castle dungeons. It was not long before their frequent coupling came to its logical conclusion, and Narcissa found herself pregnant.
It was not an easy pregnancy: at first she suffered terribly with morning sickness, then later water retention made her expand like a barrel. Unfortunately, this experience was one thing that magic could not cure, for fear of damage to the baby. Lucius was solicitous for her comfort, but his ever watchful grey eyes began to stray, as there was no way that poor, suffering Narcissa could accommodate his still rampant carnal desires. Lucius was delighted when presented with his firstborn, and doubly so that it was a son, but although he lavished money on both Narcissa and Draco, and played for hours with his baby son, Narcissa knew that he now had more than one woman at his beck and call even after normal marital relations had resumed. Some were to be his mistresses for many years, in addition to the many one night stands and numerous affairs.
Narcissa dreaded what would happen when Lucius began to feel again, for she was sure that his agonies were not yet over. If he had indeed been attacked with a Crucio curse, as she had suspected when she found him, this was designed not only to cause immediate pain. The effects lasted for many weeks after the initial torture had worn off: stabbing pains would recur at unpredictable intervals, and reduce the sufferer once more to a whimpering wreck.
She realised she might be in for a long wait. Narcissa rose to summon a house elf to fetch her a meal on a tray.
Time passed, and following her light meal Narcissa dozed fitfully in her armchair, waking every so often. She noticed during one waking period that one of the house elves had covered her with a quilt, and removed the tray, placing a ewer of spring water and a goblet at her elbow. Each time, she checked on Lucius, but he was still unconscious.
Narcissa opened her eyes, feeling slightly more awake than before, and realised that it was very dark. It must be the middle of the night. She stood up and stretched, feeling dirty and creased. She began to think over the situation more logically. How long would Lucius take to wake up? If he had already been unconscious for days lying in the dungeon, there was no reason why it should not be more days before he came to. She could not maintain a vigil at his bedside for that amount of time without sleeping herself, and her attempt at sleeping in the chair had left her feeling cramped and unrefreshed. She must take care of herself. Lucius would need her when he regained consciousness. She looked at him lying there. The bed was wide, there was room for her too. She would get in beside him. Surely she would wake if he did - and why would she be more likely to do so if she remained in the chair? On the contrary, surely she would more easily register any change in Lucius if she were lying beside him?
She removed her outer clothes, laid them neatly on the chair, and slipped into bed beside her husband, trying to create as little disturbance as possible.
The next morning, Narcissa awoke, feeling far more like a normal witch after a dreamless slumber. Lucius had not yet woken. She rose, and after setting a house elf to watch over his supine form, and give him more water, she went to bathe. Once the house elf had filled the sturdy granite bath with water as hot as she could stand, Narcissa stepped in and lay back amongst the clouds of steam, feeling her knotted muscles gradually relaxing. She thought once more about her present situation. Lucius' recovery was her first priority, but she had other pressing matters to worry about.
Narcissa had switched on all her charm when dealing with Mark Chang yesterday. She had not been sure that she would succeed with him, he seemed impervious to her change in manner. However, after giving him what she told him was all the gold in the manor, she had eventually managed to obtain a few days' grace for the remainder of the sum owed. Now she needed both to visit Gringotts - the amount of money she required would not be ceded for less than a personal visit - and then to liquidate some of the Black/Malfoy family assets in order to pay Chang. She would therefore need time to arrange all this.
And what danger still lurked in the dungeons? She would have to investigate before long, and she would have to go alone. All the house elves were terrified of whatever lay there, and she instinctively knew that no amount of bullying would make any of them accompany her, given that they had already dared to leave their Master unattended at the mercy of the unnamed horror. At that thought she shivered, even as the steam caused sweat to run down her face, and hoped fervently that the house elves were right, and whatever it was would not venture into the rest of the castle.
Suddenly, as she thought of the house elves, Narcissa realised what small thing had been niggling her ever since she had arrived. She had not seen Twinkle performing any of the house elves' duties. This was odd, because she was an elf who favoured upstairs work: cleaning, laying the table and serving meals. She disliked cooking and other kitchen work, so was usually on view, unlike a couple of the others, who preferred to remain out of sight, and thus less likely to incur their Master's displeasure. She would ask Poppy, who had drawn her bath, and was waiting in the dressing room next door for Narcissa to summon her.
But this thought was driven from her mind when Poppy entered the bathroom unasked, to announce that Master was stirring, and seemed to be on the verge of waking. Narcissa stood immediately, water streaming from her body. Poppy helped to rub her down with a soft towel, but Narcissa could not wait to be completely dried, and, wearing a towelling robe, her fair hair dark and hanging in rats' tails, she hurried back to Lucius' bedside. There she saw that indeed he was very restless, and was muttering under his breath. The peaceful look he had temporarily gained while unconscious was gone, to be replaced by the agonised expression of the day before. Narcissa took Lucius' hand in hers, and spoke to him softly, hoping that her voice would help to bring him back from wherever his mind had taken him.
After an interval of about half an hour, Lucius' eyes opened suddenly. They remained unfocussed, but Narcissa felt her hand being squeezed, and her heart lifted a little to know that he recognised her presence. Lucius' mouth opened too, as if he were trying to speak. Narcissa signed to Poppy to wet his mouth again. Lucius' tongue flicked round his cracked lips as he responded to the water squeezed carefully into his mouth. Then, very quietly, his voice rasping, he spoke awkwardly, his swollen tongue making words difficult. Squeezing Narcissa's hand, he said:
"Cho. Cho, my love."
Narcissa Malfoy had two big secrets: the first one was that she still loved Lucius Malfoy. If truth were told, she felt nothing at all for the string of young men she seduced or allowed to seduce her, although she enjoyed the physical thrills, and frequently succeeded in convincing herself that she had an ideal life. It was only occasionally that she admitted to herself that she felt a deep pain in her chest whenever she allowed herself to think of Lucius making love to another woman.
Lucius' words to her now were like a knife turning in her heart.
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Cho Chang woke as her alarm clock sounded, the sprite inside it singing as loudly as it could in a melodious voice. Following the few moments it took her to realise where she was and what day it was, Cho recognised that familiar sinking feeling in her chest. It was a work day: she must get up, dress herself smartly, make up her face carefully, and prepare to serve yet another set of customers. She must smile and pretend that all was well even though her heart was breaking. She tried to think happier thoughts, to enjoy the sight of the lightening crimson sky that greeted her when she pulled back the curtains and looked over the rooftops of Diagon Alley. But whatever she tried, her thoughts always returned to the source of her heartbreak: Lucius Malfoy.
Cho followed her usual morning routine, finding some comfort in the familiar, repetitive ritual. Finally, washed, dressed, and with her hair neatly pinned up, she tried to make herself eat some breakfast, but found she was unable to swallow, so settled for a glass of fresh orange juice. She knew Alan would make them both tea, as he did every day after he arrived, and he would make sure she drank hers. Cho went downstairs to check all was well in the shop, and then unlocked the front door.
It was mid morning. Everything had followed a normal, everyday pattern, with a steady stream of customers, each with garments at a different stage in the tailoring process. Alan was in the changing room with Cornelius Fudge, who was being measured for a jacket. Cho was writing in her large leather-bound diary, as she had a lull before her next appointment was due. She looked up from the book as the bell announced the opening of the shop door.
Cho was greeted by the sight of Narcissa Malfoy entering her premises.
