A/N: You guys are the best. Thank you so much to all my reviewers. Enjoy chapter four!

Disclaimer: I haven't put one in yet, so I guess I should... Everybody and pretty much everything belongs to J.K. I'm just expanding her world. So don't sue me.


"What time did you wake up?" Narcissa asked, the next morning.

Lucius made a face. "Oh, around six."

"That's not too bad, I suppose," she commented, coming out of the walk-in closet, buttoning her dress.

Lucius sighed, a bit frustrated that she was still going out of her way to make sure he didn't see her body. "What time did you fall asleep?" he asked her, pushing aside his annoyance.

"I'm not sure," Narcissa answered. "Sometime after two."

He wasn't happy to hear that. "Well then why are you up so early?" he asked, going over to her and pulling her close to him.

"It's nearly nine-thirty; I'd hardly call that early," she replied, looking up at him. He was worried about her, she could tell. "It's just going to take some time to get back into a normal rhythm," Narcissa added gently.

Their sleep patterns had been completely thrown off during the last year, as they had only felt safe sleeping one at a time. Lucius always went to bed first while Narcissa remained awake, then around three or four in the morning she would wake him and she would go to sleep. Last night was the first time they'd slept together since the night after he was released from Azkaban.

In light of that, Narcissa had given up her attempts to avoid her husband's touch. Lucius had been determined to fall asleep with his arms around her, and she had readily allowed it.

Narcissa finished buttoning her dress, and they went downstairs to the sitting room, where the house-elf had laid out the breakfast tray. A copy of the Daily Prophet was laying on the table next to the tray with a bold headline across the front: 'VOLDEMORT DEFEATED.'

"The subscription must have never been cancelled after your father passed away," Narcissa noted.

Lucius seated himself next to her. "It's nice to know I've been paying for a house-elf to remain up-to-date on current events," he drawled cynically. He glanced around the room. "Where is your son?"

Narcissa poured herself some coffee. "He's probably sleeping, Lucius, leave him be."

He picked up the paper and unfolded it. As he did, Narcissa caught sight of the back, which simply read 'DEATH EATERS.' She grabbed hold of the newspaper. "Lucius, look at this," she said urgently.

Lucius turned the paper over and she sidled up beside him to read. Beneath the headline it read, 'Listed below are those known to be followers of Lord Voldemort. Anyone with information regarding so-called 'Death Eaters' should direct their owl to the Auror's Office at the Ministry of Magic.' The rest of the article was a list of names in fine print, under three smaller headings: AT-LARGE, ARRESTED, and DEAD.

Narcissa's breathing became quicker as she scanned down the list of names, and was relieved to find that they were not among those listed to be at large, nor were they listed as being arrested.

She froze, though, as her eyes went down the list of those who were dead. 'Bellatrix Lestrange - killed in battle.'

Narcissa stared at the name, and found that she had no tears for her sister. A strange numbness had taken over her. Lucius must have finally caught up with her, for she felt him tense up and glance at her. He put his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss against her head.

She couldn't speak about it. Instead she whispered, "We're not listed."

If Lucius was taken aback by her avoidance of the topic, he didn't show it. "Yes, I am surprised... since we are technically under house arrest."

"I'd say that's a good sign," came Draco's voice from behind them.

Some of the weight on Narcissa's chest inexplicably lifted at the sound of her son's voice. He came around the sofa, pausing to kiss his mother's cheek. "How are you feeling, Mum?" he asked, seating himself opposite his parents and grabbing a piece of toast off the tray.

She knew he was referring to her refusal to come down to dinner the night before. "Better, thank you, darling." Narcissa smiled at him. He seemed to be in relatively good spirits. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, not bad," Draco answered.

Lucius had turned the paper back over, and was opening it. Narcissa didn't think she could take any more news, good or bad or anywhere in between, at the moment. "Lucius, must you read that now?"

He was staring at the inside page. The look on his face made Narcissa's heart start hammering again. She leaned toward him and apprehensively looked at the paper.

'SEVERUS SNAPE VINDICATED.'

Narcissa's eyes widened. "What is it?" Draco asked, leaning forward.

She sat back against the sofa. "Read it to us," she said, putting a hand on her husband's arm.

Lucius took a moment to break his attention away from the article before glancing at them. He took a steadying breath before he turned back to the paper and began to read aloud:

Severus Snape, the late headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was killed two nights ago during the battle which took place on the grounds of the school. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter state that they witnessed the former potions-master's final moments, after he was fatally wounded by Lord Voldemort.

"He wanted me to take his memories," Potter said of the late headmaster. The formerly alleged Death Eater died soon after from his wounds, but Potter states that he viewed the memories he was given using the headmaster's own Pensieve, and was shocked by their contents.

"Professor Snape was working as a double-agent against Voldemort all this time," says Potter. It is commonly known that Snape admitted to being a Death Eater in his youth, but was vouched for by Albus Dumbledore as having turned away from Voldemort's movement. Since the murder of Dumbledore, however, Snape proclaimed himself a Death Eater once more. Only, he was lying.

"Dumbledore had been badly injured in an attempt to destroy a dark artifact of Voldemort's, and was slowly dying. Rather than let the curse kill him, or allow the attempt on his life planned by Voldemort, Dumbledore asked Professor Snape to end his life. He knew that it would be more dignified, and would allow Snape closer access to the Dark Lord. Professor Snape agreed, and performed the most horrible task imaginable in order to protect those he cared about. And then he became headmaster of Hogwarts in order to protect the students as much as he could," explained Potter.

But why not attempt to keep the Death Eaters out of the school? "Dumbledore knew that once he was dead, Hogwarts didn't stand a chance," Potter said. "Snape could help much more from the inside."

What made Severus Snape take this great personal risk and suffering upon himself, I asked Mr. Potter. "He was a good man," Potter replied simply. "He had watched Voldemort destroy everything he loved, and knew that he had to be stopped." Potter would offer no further explanation.

Draco was staring at the coffee table, Narcissa at the fireplace, Lucius at the paper in his hand. They were silent.

Finally Narcissa breathed, "Is that all?"

Lucius swallowed and glanced at the bottom of the article. "They're holding a public funeral. They're encouraging people to donate."

"Lucius -"

"Of course we will," he interrupted her, closing the paper and folding it on his lap.

They were silent until Narcissa broke in again. "He had no family," she said quietly.

Draco's thoughts were headed another direction.

"Of course Dumbledore knew I was assigned to kill him," he murmured. Lucius and Narcissa both looked at their son. He looked up at them. "Snape told him. If I had told Snape about the Vanishing cabinets... he would have stopped me. He would have stopped me from letting the others into the castle..."

Draco didn't know how to feel about this knowledge. He felt betrayed in a small way, but he felt guilt and regret as well. He could have allowed Professor Snape to prevent the destruction of the school. But then, Dumbledore had planned to die anyway...

"You would have been punished if the plan failed," Lucius interrupted his thoughts. "As it was, you succeeded in a small way. Enough to save your life."

But what his father didn't know was that Dumbledore had offered Draco a chance to defect, and if the other Death Eaters hadn't interrupted, he would have accepted the offer.

If he had told Snape about his plan, and allowed the professor to help him, to talk him out of using the cabinets and come up with a new plan... he would have been alone with the headmaster. He could have disappeared under Dumbledore's wing, taken his mother with him, kept them safe... Snape would have killed Dumbledore as planned, and remained in close favor with Dark Lord, and they would never have had to suffer so much... and having changed sides, they would not now be in danger of spending the rest of their lives in Azkaban.

"Draco?" Narcissa was leaning forward, looking quite concerned. "Are you all right?"

Her son was even paler than usual. He was frowning, and shook his head. It would be impossible to explain to his parents why he suddenly felt so guilty. "I'm not feeling well... if you'll excuse me," he muttered as he stood and left the room.

Lucius and Narcissa sat in silence.

"What are you going to do about Bellatrix?" Lucius finally asked quietly.

Narcissa shrugged.

Her husband looked surprised. "Do you not care?"

"I'm trying not to," she answered. "You're not helping."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Narcissa... that's not like you."

She lifted her head to look at him, unsure how to explain what she was feeling. In her head she knew she owed some loyalty to Bella by virtue of being her sister, but in reality she felt nothing for her. The sister she had grown up with died many years in the past, and some horrifying stranger had taken her place. Narcissa was not inclined to waste any influence they still had on some stranger's dead body.

"We don't know what they did with her. We aren't exactly in a position to be asking the Ministry for favors. And even if they didn't dispose of her body already, we don't know that we'd be permitted to travel in order to bury her with my other relatives."

Having no response, Lucius remained silent. She did have a point. Bellatrix was dead and there was no helping her. It wasn't worth angering the Ministry over her, when their own lives still hung in the balance.

Still, she had been his wife's sister. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Narcissa nodded. "Bella was gone a long time ago," she said softly.

Lucius noticed that his wife appeared to be contemplating something, staring at the fireplace once more. "Enchantments break when the person who cast them dies," she murmured, lifting her eyes to him. "Isn't that right?"

He nodded slowly. It worked that way with all the sorcery with which he was familiar. But what was she thinking of?

But she said nothing more. Narcissa took a sip of her coffee, looking rather unsettled by whatever it was she chose not to share with him.

Lucius slipped his arm back around her. "I would like to go to Severus' funeral," he shared. It baffled him that a man he had considered his friend could have hidden so much from him, but then, Severus had always been reserved. The sheer audacity of lying to the Dark Lord's face repeatedly was what really astounded him.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Narcissa said, "I can't imagine how he must have felt all these years. I deceived the Dark Lord for twenty minutes and every moment I was certain he would turn around and kill me."

Lucius' arm tightened around her. "Don't talk about it," he said quickly, kissing the top of her head. It was far too soon for him to comfortably discuss what a great risk she'd taken.

They fell silent again, each preoccupied with their thoughts. For his part, Lucius could not push out of his mind the fear of what could have happened to her, had the Dark Lord discovered her treachery sooner. He could only thank whatever god must be out there that she was here now, safely tucked close to him where she belonged.

The clock over the mantel struck ten, which pulled Lucius out of his contemplation. He sat up, withdrawing his arm from her shoulders. Picking up the paper once more, he glanced at her.

"You should eat something," he prompted her, as tactfully as possible. He returned his gaze to the paper, hoping to avoid the irritated look he was certain would follow.


A/N: Reviews are the nectar of life! :D