December 15, 1976 – Hogwarts
The two of them stood waiting at King's Cross, watching as families reunited before them for the winter break. The atmosphere was quieter than last year's – more tense; it was evident in the darting glances, the sighs of relief, the embraces with trembling hands.
Most of their year had elected to stay at Hogwarts. For the both of them, they'd had no choice.
"We'll be fine," Severus said quietly, barely moving his lips. She squeezed his hand in response, lightly, feeling the dry yet soft skin of his palm.
Concealed from the rest of the world beneath the flowing fabric of their robes, it was a grounding connection, even outside of the warmth it provided against the bitter London wind.
A loud sound at their backs caused them to break apart, drawing their wands, but it was Tully that appeared next to them, her expression amused.
"Tully is being very happy to see Mistress," she said with a bright smile, embracing Cassiopeia's legs. "Miss Malfoy is calling me to be getting you," she added, tugging at the bright purple scarf around her neck. "She is wanting to come herself, but she is being sick with the baby."
"Morning sickness?" Severus asked for clarification, his brow furrowing slightly. It was clear where his mind went, as he worked the problem over in his head, undoubtedly imagining the various potions he could brew up.
Cassiopeia smiled at him, before reaching down to grasp Tully's hand. "Thank you for coming, then, Tully. I'm glad to see you again too."
The house-elf gave a decisive nod. "I is taking you home, now."
The sensation of elf-travel was as strange as always, but they arrived in the foyer without issue, Malfoy Manor as cold and imposing as it always was since the Dark Lord had made it its home. Narcissa was waiting for them there, her hand resting on the swell of her stomach – barely visible beneath her sky-blue robes. There was a radiant smile on her face as she carefully embraced Cassiopeia first, then Severus.
"I shouldn't be," she said quietly. "But I'm so glad to see you both. Let's go upstairs and… talk."
The rooms they usually occupied were made up, refurnished for the winter with heavy drapes, thick fur blankets, and an array of warm clothes in the closet. The provisions went unspoken for – it had long become simply an aspect of their relationship: that the Malfoys would provide the money the two of them very much lacked. Still, Cassiopeia felt her heart ease at the reminder that she wouldn't have to struggle to put together enough funds to buy clothes.
"He's gathered almost the entire core following," Narcissa explained, once they were ensconced in Cassiopeia's room. "They'll be staying a week at the least – downstairs. There's wards on your doors – both of yours – to prevent the entrance of those with ill intent. I'd suggest adding some of your own: they're always stronger that way."
Cassiopeia nodded, the reminder of Rodolphus causing something like sparks to flit across her fingertips, her magic flowing to her hands. "So… you're a veritable prisoner in your own home. You and Lucius. Is he displeased?"
"And the baby," she corrected with a slight, teasing smile, her gaze falling to her stomach. "But I think not. He is… delusional enough at this point that I think he considers it a great honour."
"He's gotten worse?" Severus asked, and a tense, silent moment followed his words.
"I don't see him often but – yes. The attacks… they're not calculated anymore. Just – rampages, whenever he feels like it. Muggleborns dead, even half-bloods. He used to say he wanted no magical blood spilled. And Lucius…"
"He's in a bad way?" Cassiopeia asked urgently.
"Physically, he's – " Narcissa cut herself off, smoothing her robes down her stomach in a self-soothing gesture. "Mentally is another question."
Cassiopeia ran her hand through her hair fretfully, meeting Severus' gaze behind Cissa's back.
"...The Dark Lord gave him an item – some kind of chalice – and told him to put it in his vault. He only kept it with him for two days, but in that time… it was like he was a different man entirely. He was just so angry, and paranoid, and bitter. That was a few weeks ago – he's fine now, but – " Narcissa rested her head in her hands. "This needs to end. My baby can't grow up like this. I can't even speak freely in my home."
"...Have you found out what gender it'll be?" she asked to distract the older woman as Severus suddenly stood, heading to the entrance.
"No, I – "
A moment later they all heard it: quick footsteps down the hall, before the door was wrenched open.
"Bella."
The gleam of madness in her glazed-over eyes was as present as ever, and the stench of blood on her was enough to make everyone's stomachs turn – especially Narcissa's, who stumbled from the bed into the bathroom, throwing up into the sink.
"You're vile," Cassiopeia spoke freely, anger clouding her judgement. She rushed after Cissa, moving to hold her hair out of her face like the woman had done for her all those years ago.
"The Dark Lord wishes to see you!" Bellatrix called after her, unable to pass the doorstep. "He was ever pleased to hear you accepted his invitation."
"Tell him to wait," she responded almost flippantly, turning on the water so that Narcissa could wash her face.
"You should go," the woman said quietly. "I've been dealing with this for three months, I'll be alright. It's best not to antagonise him."
Cassiopeia regarded her for a moment, calculating, before stepping away. "I'll be back."
Sharing a nod with Severus, she walked downstairs with him, scourgifying the blood that dripped onto the floor repeatedly from Bella's dress with distaste, the coppery scent repulsive. Arriving at the entrance to the sitting room, their escort threw open the door with a flourish, centring the Dark Lord as a sight to behold.
He was… not. The alluring violet of his eyes, that had long since been used to draw supporters in, had turned into a dull magenta, and as he stood to greet them, a smirk curling around his lips, Cassiopeia's eyes were drawn to the paper-like quality of his skin, which had turned almost translucent.
"The child returns… and she brings along a conquest."
His voice, however, had not lost its smooth, velvety quality, and it was almost easy to sink to her knees, to murmur: "My Lord."
He touched her then, frail hands tilting her head up to face him. Her mind was blank, empty, but for a surface of flitting emotions: pleasure, pride, a desire to serve. Fear of this god before her.
"I was… concerned to hear of your brush with death."
His fingertips ghosted across her skin, tracing her lip. "The woman has already paid a price for her oversight… she will not be so foolish again."
"Thank you, my Lord."
There was something eerie in his slow smile, as he finally pulled his cold hand away. It did not ease her fear, however, when he turned to her right.
"Jealous, Severus?" he asked. "Do you fear that she will revel in my touch more than yours?"
"...No, my Lord."
He made a noise of slight amusement. "Your union is fortuitous. I had thought to bind her to Rabastan, but… I will not separate true love," he spoke mockingly.
"Thank you, my Lord."
He laughed for a moment, the sound cold. "Would you still do so if I asked?"
"If it pleased you, my Lord," she responded after a second, her heartbeat rapid in her chest. Please, god –
"Good girl," he crooned, his momentary consideration disregarded. "You would have been wasted there anyway… unfortunately, Rabastan doesn't like to share."
Severus made a movement, as if to grab her, before aborting the gesture.
"Not that Severus here is the sharing type either," he smirked. "Not to worry. I won't take her from you quite yet."
He stepped away from them, his face returning to its imperious mask. "Make yourselves useful."
•••
Chapters from the week after next will be back to normal. Apologies. My test got postponed, and I'm taking the opportunity to study for it even more. Thank you also for all of the reviews – I apologise for not responding to them individually, but I appreciate them all the same.