Chapter Six
He was definitely being strange tonight. Narcissa was entirely bewildered by it.
Her visits to Severus were a regular event now... he'd never visited her, but she'd often found herself counting the days until she could go to him again. They talked - he was actually interested in her thoughts and opinions, and rather to her surprise, Narcissa had found that she had quite a few. Sometimes they ate together. Always the evenings ended in the same way as the first, although they never talked about it. Sometime, she supposed, they'd have to, but she was in no hurry for things to change, in case they got worse.
But tonight he was being... odd. Distant. After nearly an hour of trying to make conversation, Narcissa scowled at him. "What is the matter with you?" she asked reproachfully. "If you want me to leave, I will, but you could just say so."
He gave her a startled look, and then frowned. "I don't want you to leave," he said, apparently rather unwillingly.
"But you're angry with me." She never would have dared be so blunt with Lucius, but Severus treated her as an equal, of sorts. "What have I done?"
He glanced away, looking just a little ashamed of himself. "You told Dumbledore and Moody that Pettigrew was the traitor, not Black," he muttered.
"Well, yes. He was." She blinked at him. "I thought it would make them trust me more. I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known you didn't want me to."
He got up, wandering over to the bookshelves. "It's not that I didn't want you to," he said stiffly. "But I wanted Black to be guilty. I wanted him to stay in Azkaban and suffer."
Narcissa nodded slowly. "He used to treat you badly at school, didn't he?" she said softly. "I'd forgotten. He was always something of a bully, even when we were small."
"I'm not surprised," Severus said grimly. "And yes, he did... treat me badly. And I wanted him to pay for it."
Narcissa shrugged. "I'm sure you'll think of something," she said brightly. "And I could help you. He's my cousin, but I'm not fond of him particularly."
He gave her a sharp, surprised look, and then he smiled for the first time that evening. "Thank you, Narcissa," he said gravely. "I would... appreciate that."
Glad that that was over, Narcissa returned the smile. "Then that's what we'll do," she said decidedly, going over to him and tugging him down for a lingering kiss. She, for one, was more than ready to move the evening along to its always pleasant and usually prolonged conclusion.
He kissed her back, holding her tightly the way he always did... and then, slowly, he drew back, looking down at her with an inscrutable expression. "Why do you do this?" he whispered, drawing back, and holding her by the shoulders when she would have slipped into his arms again.
"Because I want to," she said softly, lifting a hand to touch his thin cheek gently. "Don't you?"
He swallowed hard. "Yes. And you know it," he said grimly. "Why me, Narcissa? You're beautiful enough to have any man you want, and god knows you could do better than me." He looked around the small, shabby room with a bitter little laugh. "I've nothing to offer you. The first time you were grateful to me, and I accepted that. The second time I put down to curiosity or lingering gratitude or wanting to know if you could, and I didn't care which." His hands tightened on her shoulders, his expression an odd mix of confusion and pain. "But you kept coming back. Why me, Narcissa? Why do you keep coming back to me? To this?"
She swallowed hard, touching his cheek again. She was going to have to be honest - really honest, this time, not just telling the truth when and how it suited her. "Because you hold me," she said in a small voice.
He blinked at her. "Because I... what?"
She swallowed hard. She wanted to cry, but she wasn't going to. She didn't want to get her way by crying, not this time, not with him. "Because you hold me," she repeated. "When you kiss me, and... and afterwards. Nobody's ever... Lucius never did, not even in the beginning, he wasn't affectionate with anyone. And n-neither were my parents, or Bella, or... anyone. You hold me as if you love me, and I don't care if you don't, really; as long as I can pretend that you do while I'm with you, that's enough." That last part was a lie, she realized even as she said it. It wasn't enough, and she did care. But she would settle for the illusion of love, if it was all she could have.
He stared at her, stunned... and then he pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him. "I didn't know," he whispered into her hair, as she started to cry in earnest. "I never thought... I do care, Narcissa, I have for a long time, but I didn't think you wanted me to... I couldn't imagine why you'd want me..."
"I do," she sobbed, burying her face in his robes. "You and nobody else." She hadn't realized how much it mattered to her until he'd pulled her to him and it had suddenly all been all right.
Severus opened his eyes. Something was... strange. Not right.
He turned his head, and realized with an almost painful happiness that the not-rightness was because for the very first time, Narcissa was still beside him. She'd always been gone when he woke up, before. Now she wasn't... she was curled up beside him, her arm resting across his chest, her face innocent and peaceful in sleep.
He had to tell her.
He didn't want to... had never intended to. But he loved her, and she, he was almost certain, loved him as well. She trusted him. And he could already feel the guilt starting to gnaw at him.
He hadn't felt the slightest bit guilty about poisoning Malfoy at the time. He'd been a monster, and a cowardly one at that, one who could afford to make sure that he would never see justice for those he'd murdered. And it had been the quickest way to get his hands on the two incredibly powerful artifacts... Horcruces, as they had turned out to be... that Voldemort had left in Malfoy's keeping. He'd known that Narcissa would give them up at once, rather than be caught with them, and once he'd learned they were there, he hadn't dared leave them in Malfoy's hands. The Fates only knew what he'd have done with such malevolent power.
He'd never wanted to hurt her. He knew she wasn't especially attached to Malfoy, and that as long as she and her baby were safe and peaceful, she'd be perfectly happy. He hadn't had any designs on her then, he'd just felt rather sorry for her.
Until now, he'd had nothing to feel guilty about. But now... now he was in love with the man's wife. Now he was directly, personally benefiting from Malfoy's death. It made things different.
Narcissa's eyes opened, and she smiled drowsily as she saw him looking at her. "Is it morning?" she murmured, nestling against his side. "I don't want to go yet..."
"It's only morning in the technical sense... it's just after two." He sat up, drawing reluctantly away from her. "Narcissa... I have to tell you something, before we take this any further."
She frowned, sitting up herself, her fair hair falling around her like silvery silk. "Severus, you don't have to," she said softly, touching his arm.
"I do." He looked down at her hand, covering it gently with his own. "When I came to visit, after Lucius died, I told you that I'd come to help you. That was true, but it wasn't all the truth. Two of the artifacts he had... the book, and the golden cup... were Horcruces belonging to the Dark Lord. Two portions of his soul, that he could use to rise again. I wasn't sure that that's what they were, but I knew they were incredibly powerful, and very valuable to He Who Must Not Be Named. A chance word from Lucius told me that he had them - and that he planned to use them or their power, as soon as a good opportunity presented itself. I'd already reached my limit, Narcissa, realized that I couldn't live with myself if things went further. I had to get them away from him." He took a deep breath. Now. He had to stop being a coward and tell her...
"Ohhh," Narcissa said, nodding. "So that's why you came to the house that night. I wondered."
He stared at her. Would she ever stop coming out with these unbelievably startling statements? 'I don't want to be evil anymore', 'I want you to love me', 'I know you killed my husband'... "You knew!"
She nodded. "I saw you coming out of his study," she explained. "Dobby told me that someone was in there - he was under orders always to do so, unless Lucius had told him not to. So I sneaked down to watch and see if I could see who it was, coming out. And I saw you just before you put on your invisibility cloak." She smiled a little. "I didn't say anything, when the Aurors came, and I told Dobby to say that he didn't know if anyone had been there."
He was gaping at her like a schoolboy, he realized, and he shut his mouth with a snap. "You knew? And... you didn't tell anyone? You turned to me when I came by the next day? You went to BED with me?"
"I don't know if you poisoned him, or if you told him things were very bad, so he'd poison himself," she said calmly. "And I don't want to know. For Draco - I don't want to have to lie to him, if he asks if his father really killed himself." She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. "I knew Lucius would die sooner or later, once he'd sworn himself to He Who Must Not Be Named. After that, I was just waiting for it to happen, and hoping it wouldn't mean me getting hurt as well." She smiled, resting her head against his shoulder as they sat side by side. "You were careful not to leave anything that might point to me. That was sweet."
... sweet. He'd killed her husband, and she thought it was sweet. "I'm... surprised," he said, rather inadequately. "I knew the two of you weren't exactly devoted to each other, but..."
"I respected Lucius. I was loyal to him while he was alive. I gave him a son, and would have had more children if we'd had time. I made an alliance, uniting our families, and I did everything I could to make it a strong one." She shrugged. "But he's dead now. He gave me little thought when he was alive, why should I give him more now that he's dead?"
He'd known she was more intelligent than she ever admitted, that she could manipulate the truth far more skillfully than most people could lie. He'd known there were hidden complexities under that malleable, guileless surface. Just how deep and complicated they were, he hadn't realized. He was torn between shocked, impressed and rather aroused. "I had no idea you could be so... practical," he said, settling for admiring.
She smiled at him. "I wouldn't be nearly so practical if you were murdered. I'd be plotting all sorts of wicked and agonizing revenge," she told him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "But it's different with you. I chose you for myself, nobody chose you for me."
And for someone who'd been pushed around all her life, that would make all the difference, he realized. She had chosen him, of her own will, without let or hinderance, and would value him far higher than the husband chosen for her by her family. "I'm very glad you chose me," he said softly, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her to him. "And you're not... angry, or anything?"
"Not really. I was always sure you must have had a reason. And getting rid of a Horcrux or two is a VERY good reason." She shuddered. "I still don't want the Dark Lord to come back." She smiled up at him, and kissed him lingeringly. "But let's not think about that. I love you, and you seem to love me too, so I think we should discuss that some more."