A/N: And here is chapter five! Thanks so much to my kind reviewers! Enjoy!
Draco had remained in his room all day, and when Narcissa had gone in to check on him she'd found him asleep on his bed, fully clothed. Whether or not he had actually been asleep she could not tell - he had always been good at pretending, when he didn't want to talk to anyone. She hadn't tried to wake him.
However, when he did not appear downstairs the next morning, Narcissa became anxious.
"Go up and talk to him if you're so worried," Lucius told her.
And so, she did just that. She knocked gently when she reached his door. There was no answer, and so she opened the door and poked her head in.
"Draco?" she said gently, looking around the room.
He was seated in an armchair by the fireplace, facing away from her. Narcissa came in and closed the door. She walked slowly toward him, coming around the chair to see him.
His eyes were open, staring into the flames with a hollow expression. He looked as if he hadn't slept all night. Narcissa would have been vexed that he'd pretended to be asleep if she wasn't so concerned.
"Draco," she repeated, and laid a hand on his arm.
His eyes flicked toward her momentarily. She knelt down next to him, placing her other hand on his knee. "Sweetheart, what is it?"
Draco took in a deep breath, but still did not look away from the fire. "I don't think you'll understand," he said unsteadily.
Narcissa kept herself from saying 'nonsense!' and bit her lip. "I can try," she answered.
Her son took in another deep breath. She waited, as he seemed to be working up the courage to tell her. Finally, he spoke. "I had the ability to keep us out of harm's way. I was offered the chance to cut ties with the Dark Lord, but I missed the opportunity. And for a long time, I regretted not acting faster, not thinking faster..."
Draco was becoming upset, and she rubbed his arm gently. "I know you and Father would never have approved, but it would have saved us. And I'd finally accepted that things worked out all right after all, and there was nothing I really could have done. But if it's true that Professor Snape was working for Dumbledore, then I really botched everything up..."
Narcissa couldn't bear to see Draco beating himself up like this. "Sweetheart, you can't blame yourself for things you didn't know. No one knew Snape's allegiance wasn't to the Dark Lord."
He shook his head. "But he tried to help me. He wanted me to tell him what I was doing, and I refused, because I wanted to prove myself," he spit out the word distastefully.
"You can't blame yourself," Narcissa repeated firmly. "You can't help anything by sitting up here wishing you could change what's past."
"You don't understand," Draco said fiercely. "I could have kept us out of Azkaban."
Narcissa took his hand in both of hers. "Draco. You heard what your father said the other day. He blames himself for ever returning to the Dark Lord. We all regret what's happened, we all can look back now and see things that we could have done, things that might have helped us, that would have prevented any harm coming to us. But what's done is done, and we can't go back and change anything," she told him. "Your father and I have made plenty of mistakes, Draco. So you mustn't sit around thinking that the ruin of this family rests upon your shoulders."
Her son was crying. Narcissa kissed the hand she had clasped in hers. "I don't care what you've done, or what you failed to do," she said earnestly. "If you want my forgiveness, you have it. But what really matters to me is that we all made it through this war alive and whole and safe, and together."
She gazed up at him steadily. "All right?"
Draco nodded through his tears. Narcissa stood, and she gently pulled him up to his feet and into her arms. She would never get used to her son being taller than her; she felt dwarfed by him. But he would always be her little boy.
Narcissa heard her husband's footsteps before she sensed him approaching behind her, and was unsurprised when he stopped just short of her left shoulder. "May I join you?" Lucius' voice resonated from behind her.
"Of course," she said pleasantly, looking up at him. She slid to one side of the stone bench, making room for him.
Her husband seated himself next to her easily, gazing across the garden. "What brings you out into this shabby bit of wilderness?" he asked, his voice equally pleasant.
Narcissa shook her head. "It's very peaceful out here," she answered. "Besides, I think it's charming." The bench rested beneath a large flowering tree, and looked out over a small reflecting pool with a little fountain in the center. Rose bushes lined the path, but it was too early in the year for them to have any blooms.
"You're very kind," Lucius said, looking over the small garden critically. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He turned and faced her directly. "How is your son?"
"Better now," Narcissa answered, sobering. She'd left Draco to get cleaned up and collect himself before he left his room. "And he's just as much your son, Lucius. He needs you."
Lucius' brow furrowed. "I know that," he replied earnestly. He took her hand in his. "But he's all right?" he affirmed.
Their son was consumed with self-reproach, but Narcissa had done all she could to ease his conscience. Hopefully, he would soon be feeling fine. She answered her husband with a nod.
"Good," Lucius said sincerely. He turned his gaze out to the fountain. "I've been thinking I'll write the Ministry, and let them know that we will be attending the funeral for Severus," he told her. He leaned toward her slightly, lowering his voice. "I thought I might, as an addendum, inquire after Bellatrix."
Narcissa felt a swell of gratitude, and squeezed his hand. As much as she hadn't wanted to care what happened to her sister's remains, she'd felt barbaric ignoring the issue. The dilemma had been troubling her relentlessly, and so she was thankful her husband could sense her true feelings and was willing to take the matter into his own hands. "I believe that would be the most appropriate thing to do," she answered, adding softly, "Thank you."
Her thoughts had begun to dwell upon someone else as well, ever since reading yesterday's Prophet. More than half of the paper had been comprised of obituaries, and one in particular had captured her attention. Her very worst fear throughout this war had been that she would lose her son, who was so young, too young to be involved, too young to die. It seemed that, while she had escaped from the bloodshed with her offspring for the most part unharmed, the nightmare had come true for another of her own blood.
Narcissa had not seen, spoken to, or heard from Andromeda ever since she ran off and married that muggle-born when Narcissa was sixteen. She'd pushed it from her mind that she ever had a second sister. But every once in a while a pang of something like grief would arise when she allowed herself to remember... and reading the obituary for Nymphadora Tonks had given rise to the sharpest twinge she had felt in a long time.
Her imagination did not allow her to fully fathom the depth of what her sister must feel. Narcissa had heard months ago that her sister's husband Ted was killed, but had squashed down any sympathy she might have felt. Now to have lost her daughter as well... Her niece, Narcissa realized. And her brother-in-law.
She was not certain how her husband would feel about her newly realized sympathy for her sister. Lucius' relationship with Andromeda had never been clear to her, and she had not been courted by him until well after Anny had left. He'd been a year behind her sister at Hogwarts, and they'd seemed friendly enough, but once she had been estranged from Narcissa's family Lucius had not spoken of her. Still, Narcissa wondered if that hadn't been out of respect for the Blacks, rather than out of any hatred for Anny. After all, Lucius had been trying to win Narcissa's hand in marriage.
Deciding that there was no time like the present, Narcissa made up her mind to test the waters. "Lucius, I've been thinking," she began.
Her husband smiled at her fondly. "Yes, I could see that."
Narcissa grinned in spite of herself. Of course he could tell that she'd been preoccupied by something. Her smile faded as she forged ahead. "I'm sure you did not fail to notice that Nymphadora Tonks was listed among the casualties of this week's hostilities."
Lucius' smile faded as well. He moved his gaze down to the hand he held in his. "I believe I did see that, yes," he answered smoothly, "Though I recall the last name had changed."
Narcissa's mouth tightened. "Lupin, yes," she confirmed uneasily. She found the idea of her blood-relation being married to a werewolf rather repugnant, but supposed that it did not matter much anymore. She took a breath and went on, "I thought we might extend our condolences to her mother."
His response was slow and contemplative. "It is a possibility," he agreed. He lifted his eyes to look at her. "Is this something you want to do, or something you believe would be... prudent?"
She pressed her lips together, thinking. "It certainly would be prudent, but... I believe I would like to," she intimated. The idea suddenly frightened her, and she added, "At least, I would like to do something, I don't know..." Narcissa took a moment to think clearly before continuing. "We might at least send flowers," she said at last. "With or without signing the card."
Lucius studied her for a moment before nodding. "If that's what you want," he approved, lifting her hand to his lips.
Narcissa allowed herself a small sigh of relief. "I believe it is," she admitted, leaning closer to him. She wasn't feeling quite ready to face Andromeda just yet, but suspected that this small act of compassion might embolden her to further efforts.
A/N: Short chapter, I know, but this one took a bit of effort. I think it worked itself out, though. :) Stay tuned!... my brother's wedding is next week, so please forgive some lapses in updating! Aaaaand... Don't forget to review!
