Lucius tied his robe loosely around his waist and descended the grand staircase. It had taken quite a bit of effort to simply make it out of bed, even after having slept in far later than he had intended. He had, after all, awoken to an incessant pounding in his head, and no amount of tossing and turning and covering his face with his pillows to block the light and sound could stop it. Goblin whiskey always did have a way of making him pay for it, no matter how much or how little he may have had. Still, he grimaced as his heavy footsteps sounded against the marble stairs. His hangover was hardly his first priority. He had disappointed Narcissa the night before, he had no doubt about that, and he had gained nothing from it: the Dark Mark was still very much a part of him and still visible upon his pale skin, and the pain that he had brought upon himself with all the time and thought he had given it, the pain he hoped the alcohol could dull, lingered just enough to remind him how easy it would be to truly fall back into his old ways. He was disgusted with himself for how he had acted, and was even embarrassed to see Narcissa so soon afterwards.

Lucius found his wife standing in the kitchen, supervising as the dishes washed on their own, and straightening up from the day before.

His eyes squinted from his temporary sensitivity to the light and activity around him. "Morning, love…" he said in an attempt at normalcy, hoping to gauge her attitude towards him after what had happened.

"I believe that's 'good afternoon' now, Lu," Narcissa replied softly. She immediately turned away from her cleaning up and took from the adjacent countertop a flask of a purple-blue liquid, still cold to the touch, and handed it to him. "Here. This should help your headache; it ought to take effect after just a few minutes."

He stared at it for a moment before accepting it from her. He knew he deserved the pain he was feeling after what he'd done and how he had treated her, and yet Narcissa had known he'd be suffering that morning and took the time to brew for him a potion to cure his ailment. As he had on more than a few past occasions, Lucius found himself hardly feeling worthy of such a kindness from her, and let that feeling serve to remind himself just how lucky he was. "…I don't know what I'd do without you, Cissa," he whispered.

"Oftentimes, I don't either." She smiled and placed a kiss at his jaw, the highest she could reach with Lucius standing at his full height.

He drained the flask quickly in hopes of avoiding as much of the taste as he could. No such remedy was ever particularly delectable, and he was aware from past experience that this one had an especially bitter flavor to it.

As Narcissa finished up her duties, Lucius felt the ache slowly begin to ebb away as promised, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. One of his predicaments was disappearing, at the very least. He leaned against an unused countertop and shut his eyes, waiting for the potion to work in its entirety. Fortunately for him, this also gave him time to contemplate what on Earth he could say to her. He refused to simply leave things as they had ended last night; doing so wouldn't truly resolve a thing regarding their child, his Dark Mark, or his drinking. Though he had no excuses to give for his behavior, the least he could do was offer her a much-deserved apology. The things he had felt the night before were the very things he hoped never to feel again once the war had ended; the despair, the particular fatigue that came with it, the loss of control. Had Narcissa not been there, he feared, he could very well have lost himself to it as he had before and for that he owed her his thanks as well.

"…I'm sorry," he said suddenly after some time, once his head had for the most part cleared. "Last night, I… I experienced a lapse in judgment. An incredible one, I know… but I really am sorry, Narcissa. I broke the promise I made to you and if I could redo it, I swear I would in a heartbeat."

Narcissa's work slowed to a stop and she bit her lip for a moment. Thoughts of what she would say in a situation such as this had lingered in her mind all morning while she let him rest and went about her day. She had wondered, too, if it would be in the end herself or Lucius who first broached the subject. It was a conversation she both wanted and needed to have, but he had taken her by surprise starting it so immediately there in the kitchen with her.

"You swore to me you'd stop drinking, too," she almost said on impulse alone, but the words never left her lips. To say that would be unfair to Lucius. He had been sober for months, and what he did have to drink he had with her permission and only ever in small amounts. Those sorts of habits were not easy to break. Narcissa winced, feeling guilty just having thought it and even a little worried with how close it had been to slipping out.

"…I can't hold one misstep against you. I'll admit, I was disappointed, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still in some ways." She took a moment to not only allow her words to sink in, but to consider what she should say next. "But more than anything, I was scared. I don't know if it's just my hormones or some such, but the rush of fear I felt when I saw the glass and bottle next to you, it must have reminded me of… Of those times, and you weren't yourself then, Lucius. It would hurt terribly to see you in such a way again… It did hurt terribly, just thinking of it."

Lucius grimaced at her admission. He'd known he'd caused her pain, but to hear it from her own lips, in her own voice, was something else entirely. "I don't intend to put either of us in that position again, I promise. I'm not that person any longer, you're right, and I don't mean to be – not now and not ever." He would be even more ashamed, he realized, if his second child were one day to learn of its father's dependency on alcohol in the latter stages of the Second War, and how he struggled to break that addiction in the days that followed. It was the last part of his past he wished more than anything he could be rid of, for the sake of his family just as much as his own. "I recognize how close a brush I had with falling into my old ways again last night, Cissa, and looking back on it now…" He shook his head, silently reprimanding himself. "You deserve my thanks in addition to my apologies."

"Then you're forgiven and you're welcome," she said quickly. Narcissa took several steps toward her husband and gently held his hands in hers. "I'm just glad I was able to be there for you before you did anything foolish – and don't you try to tell me that one bit of what you were planning last night wasn't foolish."

He couldn't stop a small hint of a smile from showing through at this, and nor, it appeared, could she.

"I won't argue with you there."

"Look, Lucius, I know I can't understand everything you went through, but next time you feel that way, even a little, will you tell me? I can't bear to see you resort to drinking again, for any reason, but…" There was more Narcissa wished to say, but she stopped herself, her cheeks flushing pink.

Lucius waited patiently for her to continue, something Narcissa recognized in his silence thereafter.

"I just…It might be selfish, but I'd much rather it be me that you feel you need than the alcohol," she confessed with some embarrassment. "I might not be able to make you forget the way it can, and I might not be able to make you numb to the pain you feel, but… I'd like to think I can still be of help, especially now that it affects more than just the two of us."

He squeezed her hands tight and shut his eyes for a time. Her words to him now were not dissimilar, he recalled, to the ones she spoke to him shortly after Voldemort's defeat, and the effect they had upon him was the same. "I'll tell you," he promised, "and you'll always be what I need above all else – I'm not always the best at showing it, but that's one thing you can always count on, without fail. You're what broke me of my vice before, Narcissa; I hope you never forget it."

"I won't," she said softly.

"And it will be our family that keeps me broken of it," he assured her. "What you said to me last night reminded me of that."

She nodded. "I trust you. And that's something one mistake could never change."

Though not a word of what she had told him was a lie, being completely honest with herself, had the circumstances been different, Narcissa wasn't sure she'd feel exactly the same way. However, in these months and forthcoming years after the war had ended, Narcissa knew as well as Lucius that they truly did need one another more than anything, and that time of need was no time to be blaming him for his shortcomings or his former vices. It was amnesty and sympathy that was required of both of them.

"Thank you," he said directly. "If I didn't have you, I… I'm fairly certain I'd be lost, and I'd certainly not be the man I am today."

"…If you ask me," she said, her voice growing quieter, "that's exactly what the Lucius I first fell in love with would say."

Simultaneously they let go of one another's hands, and Narcissa's arms found their way around Lucius's neck as his wrapped around her waist and their lips were soon touching. They shared a single, gentle, kiss that lasted many moments until, very naturally, they parted.

A short silence passed, the feeling of their kiss still lingering for both Malfoys. It served as a gesture of proof that Lucius was indeed a changed man, and one that was forgiven for acting the furthest thing from it. They'd move on from this, too, just as they did the rest of their former mistakes and faults.

"…Say, Cissa, do you think that maybe I could begin to make it up to you? The way I acted towards you before, I mean," he clarified.

"And just what do you have in mind for that, Lu?"

"If you'd like, I'd be honored to take you out to dinner this evening – and treat you every bit as you deserve to be, as I fear I've been failing to do in recent days. Perhaps there, or afterwards if you would be more comfortable, we can discuss what we meant to yesterday, as well…?"

"I think I'd like that very much. It's been much too long since you and I have gone out," she said, pleased with the suggestion, "and Merlin knows it does us both some good to get out of here every once in awhile."

Lucius gave his wholehearted agreement.

Narcissa found the day to pass by at a dreadfully slow pace leading up to her date with Lucius. She had precious little she had to take care of that particular day, and much of it she had finished hours before she needed to start getting ready for their evening. It was thanks to that, however, Narcissa was reminded of her younger days, when a single afternoon in Hogsmeade with Lucius was the highlight of her entire week. She'd spend hours debating what to wear, what to say, even how best to greet him. It brought a smile to her face to think of how far they had come, and yet how very similar they remained to their girlhood and boyhood selves of back then, before Dark Marks, before Voldemort, and even before Draco. She'd have to tell him later on, she thought; it was surely something he'd like to hear.

When at last it came time for her to dress for a night out, this time she had no trouble in deciding upon a favorite long red dress, which Lucius had always told her flattered her incredibly. She pinned up her long hair, leaving just the blonde to fall in soft curls over her shoulders, and chose from her large collection a bag just the size to carry her wand and other such necessities.

When Lucius laid eyes on her, he couldn't help but be impressed. "You look gorgeous, Cissy - that is to say, even more so than usual," he said with a casual grin. "Too gorgeous, in fact, to dirty such a fine outfit with the soot and grime of a fireplace…"

Narcissa laughed, exceedingly pleased to find him in a mood good enough to say such things, as if within hours things had returned to normal for the two of them. "Fine," she conceded, "but only side-along Apparition. I'm not doing it myself, I've told you."

Lucius silently delighted in this small victory. He could certainly wait until her second trimester to travel exclusively by Floo Powder.

They donned their warmest coats and, arm in arm, stepped outside the manor and into the snowy cold in preparation to Apparate.

"Ready?" Lucius asked.

Narcissa nodded, and clutched tightly to him. "Whenever you are."

A wave of Lucius's wand followed by a loud cracking sound transported them mere steps away from their chosen restaurant, one they had gone to often in the past. Her grip on his arm remained strong after they'd arrived, Narcissa having forgotten that not-so-pleasant sensation that came with side-along Apparition.

She did her best to shake it off as they entered the small yet elegant – and equally expensive - venue. Until they could be seated and alone, it was necessary for them to appear the paragon of a proper pureblood pair, as they were used to when in the public eye.

"Why, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," a waiter greeted them with reverence, "what a pleasure it is to be serving the two of you! May I ask your seating preferences this evening?"

Narcissa and Lucius glanced at one another, not quite certain what to make of such treatment. It had been ages, since before Lucius's exile to Azkaban, that they'd been given such respect in any public place. "Something more private, if you've got it," Lucius answered with the slight degree of arrogance he always showed outside his home.

"Naturally, sir. Right this way."

They were lead to a table at the back of the restaurant, sectioned off somewhat for patrons with requests just such as theirs.

"Here you are, sir; madam." He set two menus down in front of them once they'd had time to sit and remove their coats. "Might I get you anything in particular to drink to begin with? We've got a fine selection of wines, newly imported."

"No," Lucius declined. "With Narcissa unable to drink now, I hardly think it fair to do so myself. We'll be fine," he said, gesturing to the decanter filled with water already present at their table.

"Of course, of course, my mistake," the waiter apologized, seemingly genuinely embarrassed. "Someone will be with you very soon to take your orders."

"Thank you," Narcissa said, politely dismissing the man. She casually looked through the menu, though she was not thinking of what she planned to order. "Lucius…" she addressed her husband. "Earlier today I noticed something…"

"Oh?"

"You and I have been through so much since our days at Hogwarts, and yet… I can still see in us now those children we used to be." She reached across the table for his hand, which he gladly gave. "The way I looked forward to this night reminded me so clearly of when I was seventeen and in my last year of school, looking forward to meeting you at Hogsmeade because I could no longer see you at school…"

At this, Lucius couldn't suppress his laughter.

"What?" Narcissa asked, taking a bit of offense. She didn't expect for him to find it amusing, of all things; in her mind those memories were purely romantic.

"No, no," he said, "As soon as you mentioned it, I could only think of that single weekend they cancelled that year, we were both so devastated."

. "Oh, yes, I marched straight to the Gryffindor common room and wouldn't leave until Sirius showed me a way out of the castle so I could meet with you regardless!"

"And if it had been anyone other than Slughorn to catch you wandering the castle so late on your way back in, I don't know they would've let you back into Hogsmeade at all that year!"

Now, she shared in his laughter. The memory was one she held onto fondly.

"I suppose that means it's true what they say," he said with a warm smile, "that some things really don't change."

When the staff came by to take their orders, neither had to give it much thought at all. What they ordered had been exactly the usual for them, those several years ago.

Once their food had arrived, Lucius made a particular request that their waiter not disturb them for some time. He needed Narcissa's thoughts on important matters regarding their son, he had told him, and it wouldn't do for them to be interrupted. Those words also served, he hoped, as a signal to Narcissa that should she be comfortable enough to do so, he was prepared to discuss their child and their future. Needless to say, the man complied with the request. As added insurance, however, when Narcissa made no objections, Lucius drew his wand. Very discreetly, he cast a silencing spell on the area around them to ensure they would not be heard.

"…Regarding our son?" Narcissa asked with an amused smile on her face in spite of the new direction their conversation was headed.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, Cissa; I needed a proper excuse not to be bothered. I could have been talking about Draco for all he knew."

"And by that do you mean to imply you would be fine if I have a daughter, then?"

"Absolutely I would." His voiced brimmed with confidence as if he had been waiting for her to ask.

"Even though no girl has been born into the Malfoy family for generations, and she couldn't carry on the family name?"

"Neither of those things matter so much to me anymore. We have a wonderful son to keep the Malfoy line alive, and in the past year alone we've broken more of our families' traditions than I can count."

"…I'm glad to hear it," she confessed.

"Why, are you perhaps hoping to have a daughter, Cissa…?"

"Oh no, it isn't that. I'm just relieved that I don't have to worry at all about our child's gender this time, if you truly don't have a preference."

"That was incredibly stressful for me as well," he agreed, recalling having the pressure of both his and Narcissa's parents on them to have a male heir when Narcissa did, at last, conceive. "No, I wouldn't dream of putting you through anything of the sort again. I assume you'll wait to find out the child's gender, though, as you did before?"

"I'd like to, yes, as long as it's all right with you. I'm afraid that if I don't, I might end up with expectations for it one way or the other, and that's never good to have of a child you haven't even met…However…" Narcissa lowered her eyes and Lucius felt as though he had an idea of what was coming. "Well, all of that only matters if I make it that far," she said candidly.

"That's…" Lucius learned just then that, though it was just as he'd thought, nothing could have legitimately prepared him for this conversation. "That is very true, Narcissa."

"What if I don't?" she asked, as straight-forward as could be. "And I don't want to hear that everything will be just fine, that isn't what I'm asking."

"Well, I…" Put on the spot in such a way, he had to take time to think about it. He grimaced, as if recalling a bad memory, and at that moment anything he wished to say suddenly felt impossible to put into words. "In all honestly… I don't think it's something I'd be prepared for right now, or ever, for that matter. Hell, Narcissa, even talking about it is difficult," he admitted, making sure to be careful in his choice of words. "If that were to happen, though… I wouldn't place any amount of blame on you, of course, and I'd be there for you no matter what if you needed me. Although in that situation, I feel that there is a possibility I might need you just as much," he confessed, attempting to make her understand without being too forward. There was no denying for him that he too would be affected if Narcissa didn't carry to term, due to both the loss of his child and witnessing the inevitable suffering he was sure Narcissa would feel, and he knew himself well enough to recognize that he was not always the most rational of men when distressed. He could very well, he thought, have that same desire he had felt at around this time one night prior, the desire to eliminate his pain through drink, and he couldn't begin to imagine how he would handle that in this case.

Narcissa fully comprehended his meaning. She was glad that he could admit the weakness he thought he may experience, something that had never been easy for him to do. "Thank you for being so honest," she said. "I'd always be there for you, too. Of course, I doubt just how much help I'd be in that situation…" she trailed off with a small, awkward laugh as her eyes darted away from his once more.

"You shouldn't worry yourself with that. You've saved me many a time before, after all, during, if I may say, much bleaker circumstances." He took up her hand once again in an attempt to reinforce his confidence in her.

"Also…" he continued tentatively, paying careful attention to Narcissa's reaction, "I want you to know that if you would wish it…That is to say, should this scenario come to pass…That I would be more than willing to try again."

She bit back the words she had planned to say and shut her eyes for a moment in silence. He had been so genuine and had sounded so hopeful; she almost didn't want to refute him.

Lucius, meanwhile, waited for her to say something – anything – with bated breath. He thought he may have overstepped his bounds; that he might have gotten too far ahead of himself in thinking such a thing.

"I appreciate that sentiment, Lucius, very much so," she said finally. "But I just don't think I could do it." A sudden wash of emotion came over her as soon as she let the words escape. They were so definitive they frightened her. It felt almost as if it had not been herself, but a complete stranger that had spoken them. She bit her lip and shook her head, her brows furrowed. "Mentally, I'd be a mess, I'm sure… My goodness, Lucius, I could prepare all I want but I would really have no idea… I'd be relying on you, too; I couldn't handle it alone…" Tears began to slide down her cheeks, and Narcissa was powerless to control them. "And physically…? Well, you remember how l-long it took us to conceive Draco, and that's when we were both y-young and intent on having children…" Much to her dismay, the tears kept coming the more she said and she could only try to hurriedly wipe them away. "I'm s-so sorry, Lucius, I thought this wouldn't happen, not here and not now… I hardly even understand why I'm crying like this, i-it's never been this upsetting for me…"

Immediately and with efficiency, Lucius stood and pulled on his coat, and then helped his wife into hers. This was certainly not the first time she had cried like this; he recalled rather clearly how it had happened when she had been pregnant with Draco, and he understood she truly could not control it, now or then. "It's okay," he whispered. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Narcissa was embarrassed. She was embarrassed for allowing her tears to fall in public, and right in front of Lucius, no less, who she was sure would be made to look bad because of it along with her, and for not being able to control her hormonal outbursts in the first place, even at forty-three years old. She watched as he left more than enough Galleons to cover their meal and then some upon the table as she herself felt incredibly weak. If only she'd refused to talk about it over dinner and waited to arrive home instead, she thought, or even if he hadn't sounded so damn sincere, then maybe…

She kept her head down as she and Lucius quickly left the restaurant in hopes of keeping both her tears and her embarrassment hidden, ignoring anyone who attempted to speak to them. They locked arms, Lucius holding on tight to Narcissa in order to Apparate.

As soon as they stepped outside, they vanished together to Malfoy Manor.

And had only either Malfoy been just a little more observant, or had either of them dropped a napkin, or fork, or spoon, or had perhaps found one of the paintings near their table particularly interesting, maybe – just maybe – they would have noticed the small, acid green beetle with the distinctly spectacle-like markings around the eyes that had stayed particularly close by all evening.