Written for Quidditch League, Round 1

Holyhead Harpies, Keeper: A horseshoe – Write about someone running out of luck

Warnings: Mild feelings of anxiety

Word count: 1,228

A/N: Thanks to my captain giving this the once over.

We've been through days of thunder

Lucius closed the front door to the Manor and leant heavily on the handle for a moment. He watched Narcissa drop her clutch, which disappeared before it hit the floor, and shrug off her robes that floated off to one of the hooks by the door. He briefly watched the item of clothing gently place itself on its home before turning his head back towards Narcissa. She didn't look back at him as she glided up the stairs, her shoes barely making a noise on the wooden steps.

With an effort, Lucius pushed away from the door and went to the drawing room, off to the left of the entrance hall. He pulled roughly at his silk cravat as he went straight for the drinks trolley. His hand shook a little when he poured himself a hefty amount of Firewhisky causing some of it to spill over the edge.

Taking the thick, crystal tumbler to the highback chair by the empty fireplace, Lucius finally let go of the sigh he'd been holding as he sat down. He spilt more of the drink on to his trousers, his hand continuing to shake. He swore under his breath as he brushed away the droplets with his free hand.

After one, two… three large gulps of the Firewhisky, the shaking stopped. There was barely half an inch of the drink left and it didn't burn the way it used to as it went down. He could've really done with that burn to make him feel something.

"Be sure to thank Mr Potter. Without his testimony… you're a lucky man, Mr Malfoy. As always."

Lucius shook his head as the words ran through his mind. Luck was for people without money. But he had to admit, he was close to not staying out of Azkaban this time.

He held the near-empty tumbler up to eye-level, his thoughts already starting to soften at the edge. Yes, one more should do the trick. He'd barely shifted in the chair when…

"Drinking your problems away, I see," Narcissa said sharply from the entrance of the room.

Lucius held his arms open. "What problems? Didn't you hear? We're free people again."

He raised his glass to her before standing up.

"Almost free," Narcissa said softly.

Lucius, having stood and taken a step towards the drinks trolley, paused in his movements. Something in her tone made him tense. He didn't want to meet her eyes because he knew in his bones that things wouldn't be the same if he did. If he stayed where he was, as he was, it would all be fine.

"I'm leaving, Lucius." Her soft voice shook as she said the words. Like she was terrified of him.

He finally turned to face her, to look her in the eye. "No," he said, "you can't."

Tears filled her eyes when she heard the break in his voice. "I can't keep doing this with you. You nearly cost us our son this time."

"But… he's gone… we have our lives back." Lucius swallowed against a thickness in his throat, his own vision started to blur. "We get through everything because we do it together."

"Not this time. There will be something else. There always is."

Lucius took a step forward and Narcissa took a step backwards, almost stepping outside of the room. He stopped and so did she.

Narcissa sniffed loudly as she wiped away the fallen tears. "You're too much like your father. You didn't want to be, but you are."

Lucius' knees buckled, the wooden floor unforgiving as he landed heavily on it. The tumbler bounced and rolled away loudly, the remaining Firewhisky splashed across the dark floorboards. She'd said the words he'd fear he would hear one day. He sat back heavily on his heels, his breathing ragged. "You don't mean that," he whispered.

"Yes—" Her breath hitched. She put her hands tightly on her hips and looked down as she tried to keep her composure a little longer. "Yes, Lucius." She looked back at him. "I do. It took me a long time to realise who you are, but I see it now."

It felt like someone was squeezing at his heart. He couldn't take a full breath. "Wh-where will… where will you go?" That wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but it seemed the least painful of the ones he was thinking.

"Andromeda's," Narcissa answered simply.

He sank further onto his heels and slouched forward, nearly crumpling in on himself. His hands rubbed absently on the material of his trousers, his fingertips pushing deeply into his thighs. His hair fell forward, covering his face fully.

"Lucius, look at me," Narcissa requested gently.

He lifted his head, a thick strand of hair remained over his face and he didn't have the energy to move it. He felt like he could sleep for days.

"You will always have my heart, Lucius." She gave him a wobbly smile, like it was costing her to give him that much. "I just can't let you have my sanity anymore, because when it comes to you, I have never thought straight."

Then she was out of his sight, her light footsteps getting quieter. Lucius scrambled to his feet, his shoes slipping over the spilt drink before he could finally get purchase to move forward. She was already opening the door, a trunk hovering behind her, when he made it to the entrance hall.

"Narcissa, please don't go," he called, not stopping until he reached her. She'd stopped long enough for him to grab her hand, to pull her back. "Please."

She pulled at her hand. "Stop it, Lucius."

"He's gone. Really gone," he said urgently. "We got through this last time."

"Barely." She finally snatched her hand out of his.

"We did it because I had you. I can't do this if you leave me." He was still trying to pull at her, grabbing at her hands, her robes, but she kept pushing his hands back. "Please, Narcissa. He's not coming back this time.

"You thought that last time," she snapped with a hard shove on his chest.

Lucius lost his balance, falling and landed heavily on his arm. They looked at each other silently, stunned.

Narcissa moved first. She straightened her robes and took a deep breath. "If it's not him, it's something else, and I won't be here to get you through to the other side of it. It cost me too much… Merlin knows what it's cost Draco at this point."

This time Lucius didn't bother trying to chase her. He half-lay sprawled from the shove on the cold floor, his elbow throbbing, and he watched her go, slamming the door as she did.

At the sound of the slam ringing in his ears, Lucius let himself fall onto his back, his limbs spread out, and he stared at the high ceiling of beams and candles.

A million memories flood his mind.

When they first met. When he realised he loved her. The proposal, Draco's birth…

The arrangement of their relationship, Narcissa being presented to his Dark Lord, the first time she lied for him, the second, the third… cleaning him up every time he'd 'disappointed' his Dark Lord.

He was wrong. Luck wasn't for people without money.

It was for people who never had someone like Narcissa by their side.