Lucius was just about to retire to his study after dinner. He had not even had the chance to stand up and begin acting on this decision, when a house-elf, Lobby, came running into the dining room followed by an owl- no a peregrine, that kept pecking them (lightly).

"Master, you is receiving a letter" Lobby squeaked upon handing it over. With one final peck on Lobby's head the falcon perched on the back of his chair, clearly making sure he received it, read it, and likely replied.

Narcissa had already begun walking over to him. Regal as ever, she made no sound as she glided.

Lucius stood up sharply, so quickly he knocked his chair back and disrupted the falcon which flew up and perched on the curtain rod. Feathers ruffled as its screech of anger were ignored by the room. Lobby had begun to ring her hands.

"What is it? Lucius?"

"A letter from Miss Parkinson." Lucius responded, his brows furrowed as he inspected the envelope.

"Pansy?" Narcissa was never one to allow her emotions to seep into her words, but her voice was delicately laced with confusion, incredulous of the situation.

Lucius nodded, almost absentmindedly and handed her the letter as he made to go ...but then he stopped and walked back to Narcissa, not so much as pacing as indecisiveness. A quality Lucius condemned, yet here he was bound by the flurry of thoughts in his head.. What should he do? Should he make a floo call? Should he floo right over?

"Lucius? This can't… Pansy says Draco was chosen by the Goblet… I don't understand. He's underage...How could?" Narcissa looks up at him for answers, but he can only confirm the questions he has as well. The look of uncertainty and fear known only to him from the time before they had Draco. Lucius didn't respond. Perhaps Miss Parkinson was mistaken. That must be it. The young girl was mistaken.

"Master, mistress, yous have a floo call." Pipper, Lucius' personal elf, announced as she scurried through the archway.

"Tell them we will-" Lucius said, beginning to dismiss her.

"They says it urgent. About young master Draco." Pipper interrupted, breathless having run as quickly as her legs would allow.

Lucius and Narcissa looked at each other before they strode from the room. The letter clutched and crumbled within Narcissa's tight grip.

In the floo was Dumbldore. Lucius' jaw clenched. Just the man he wanted to see. Ready to unleash a string of threats he planned to make stick this time his promise to Narcissa to behave in all matters concerning Hogwarts be damned.

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Please come to Hogwarts between 7 and 8pm for a meeting with me." The voice of Dumbledore spoke, but it was clearly not him, but some sort of self-acting message. "As I am sure you've already been informed, Draco's name was chosen by the Goblet of Fire for the Triwizard Tournament and we have much to discuss. The floo in my office will be open at 7 o'clock and allow you directly into my office. Thank you." and the green flames vanished with a flash leaving only a trail of smoke.

Lucius attempted to touch Narcissa whose eyes out sparkled the jewels she was wearing. But she stepped out of his reach and fled the room. He did not pursue her immediately, already knowing her destination, but slowly allowing them both a few moments alone in their thoughts.

Lucius bit the inside of his lip, he had moved beyond shock, his mind swirling in suspicion, purpose, and plots. This was his fault. Draco's name did not get chosen by mere chance. No, that much was certain. Someone wanted Draco in the path of danger and death. Lucius stared into the empty fireplace beginning to feel light-headed; he braced himself with one hand upon the mantle. Something was beginning...or, Lucius paused, returning. It had not escaped his notice that the mark he bore had begun to darken. Slightly. Blink and you would miss it. He had written it off as pure imagination as he lay in bed, wrapped around his sleeping wife, blaming the slow glowing light beginning to fill the room or his aging eyes. Whatever could push the thought back into the recesses of his mind. But he knew. He never dared to think it possible, but now he had little doubt. Darkness was returning. Eyes were everywhere. And questions that were asked before would follow. Whispers. Lucius had not gone to Azkaban for his part in the First Wizarding War, a fact that made allies ready to be foes. Distrust lingered in the shadows around him. He was able to keep them from the light of day with his skillful words and bottomless vault, but the shadows would be growing now.

If his wife didn't already know, she would have suspicions, but remained silent...allowing him his dramatic brooding. However, given the seriousness and possible repercussions, she would not find any humor in his typical Malfoy Male behavior. No, she would not lie in wait for this.

He stood up straight, his posture automatically returning to aristocratic, and inhaled deeply before he went to see his wife.

Malfoy manor is known for many things. The gazebo where his parents married. The lake with its shores peppered with peacocks. The quidditch pitch just out of sight. The cultivated gardens that magically rearranged themselves. The manor also had secrets. Some Lucius did not even know as the manor had not told him. There was one secret tucked away within the grounds that was as if out of a fairy tale. One written by the wizard brothers known only by their surname Grimm.

Where the original structure and the expansion connected, white flowers crept up the wall. The vines clutching the stone, gripping it, intending to never release it. Slowly digging deep, breaking down the stone like water carves pathways. Narcissa's secret garden.

Each wave of flowers told a story in their varying lengths. Each blossom a tear that was shed, each plant thriving on loss. No more than a graveyard. An altar of failures wrapped in the velvet fog of death that clung to the garden like dark magic lingered in the room it was cast. Never really gone.

This loathsome place Lucius could always find Narcissa when she was worried about their son. She would sit for hours.

Where Lucius saw a garden filled with flowers mocking failures and loss, Narcissa saw a solitary space between the plants that spoke of promise and strength. There was a break in the onslaught of flowers. Nothing more than a pause, a comma, a breath, yet this vacancy was everything to her. It was life. It was proof. It was Draco.

Where tower after tower of cascading moon flowers held memories of inconsolable sobbing, pleading, and the will to try anything to ensure the next one would stick and be more than a stain on cloth. only to be beaten back with almosts and could have beens. Narcissa, nothing but a shell, devoid of life in so many ways able to breathe the breaths their child never could. Denied once again, her cheeks with ever-present tear stains but no tears, she would recall every action, every thinly veiled barb skillfully delivered, every offense that could somehow justify why they were to be punished. Obsessive hours spent pouring over journals, listening to any wife's tale, no matter how absurd, convinced the secret, the formula, the answer was hidden in the pages now marred by tears.

Lucius did not want any reminders of those days, they had Draco and that was what mattered. Their family was complete to him. He was content with their son as their only child all the while Narcissa reminisced over having sisters. Fretting over the loneliness Draco would experience without siblings. Lucius' crumbling resolve punctuated here, in this garden, with scorch marks engrained where the plant was to grow. The etching trenched deeply in the stone, this declaration of emotion signaled the end. No risks would be taken. Draco would grow up with his mother, being an only child easier to bear. The Malfoy line's future was within Draco and only Draco. Narcissa never spoke of the scorch marks, she may have even ignored them, much like she did the flowers… what mattered was the gap.

Draco's first trip to St. Mungo's, Narcissa was here. The evening after they escorted Draco to platform 9 ¾, Narcissa was here. She just about slept there the whole first week before she channeled that worry into sending him excessive amounts of mail...and sweets. She never wanted him to think he wasn't missed.

Lucius thought the blatant spoiling and coddling was humorous, but for once he would like to have a cauldron cake for himself. Just once a tart or muffin to remain in their home for him. He was the one who baked them after all and as master of the homestead should he not get one?

It was a wonder Draco did not return for the holidays carrying an extra stone or two on his frame.

Lucius had navigated the path to her. His eyes were starved for her already. His body aching for her warmth. His ears were already desperate to hear her voice. His devotion to her never faltered. He still burned for her.

Narcissa knew he was there though her eyes did not move. He was amazed how gentle and even her breathing was, having anticipated a need for his handkerchief. He should have known he would need to draw his strength from her, not the other way around.

Narcissa exhaled a lengthy sigh before she looked up at him. She did not visit this garden much anymore, her sense of helplessness and fear diminishing as Draco grew. This was the first time since the previous school term when they heard Draco was hurt, but once she saw how unhurt he really was she did not return. Lucius of course saw an opportunity to involve himself- the matter may not have resulted in serious injury, but how could they take such chances? And with his son? No. Lucius would not tolerate carelessness in relation to his son. Lucius would not deny the mistakes he has made in his life but had vowed to never let Draco be a part of them. He would not stand for incompetency. Unfortunately, the issue did not turn out well for either of the Malfoy men and Narcissa saw fit to convince him to step back from his roles at Hogwarts.

Lucius sat beside her. His hand claimed hers instantly.

"I cannot lose him," She said, her gaze moving back to the wall.

"You won't," Lucius promised. Ready to declare the ways he would bend the world to her will. He reached his other hand to her face, gently forcing her to look at him. He opened his mouth, his words moments away from moving his tense body into action. Narcissa stared deeply into him, bringing her hand to grip his on her face, moving to rest her forehead upon his. Lucius took a deep breath, inhaling her intoxicating fragrance before Narcissa spoke once more.

"I will not lose him." with her declaration, Narcissa stood pulling herself away from him. A promise and a challenge to the very intentions of the universe.

She was unaware of all of Lucius' concerns, but, ever the Slytherin, she had deduced that someone manipulated this scenario.

Lucius nodded his head, standing, and pulled out his pocket watch.

"The floo will be opening any moment now," Lucius said. He offered her his hand, which she took, squeezing in reassurance before they walked silently to the floo.