A/N: My readers are the best. This story got over 3,000 hits in only 2 weeks. I love each and every one of you. My gift to you is chapter six... and be forewarned, this one should probably be rated M. ...enjoy.


Lucius wasn't sure what had gotten into his wife, but could not bring himself to deny her newly awakened sensibilities. Soon after making her suggestion about Andromeda, Narcissa had solicited his support to make an anonymous gift to her sister's grandson, Teddy. Lucius could not tell if she was trying to reconcile with her estranged relations, or if she was just trying to ease her own conscience, but had decided that either possibility was better than having his wife brood upon their current confinement.

For his part, Lucius felt at once trapped and safe. As much as he despised this cottage for reasons of his own, he knew that if forced to leave it would not be upon good terms. The Ministry had not yet been in touch regarding what was to become of them, but it was coming someday soon; he could feel it, and he dreaded it.

They had received approval from the Ministry to attend Snape's funeral, which had been a crowded and melancholy affair. It felt right to pay respects to the man he'd considered his friend, but Lucius could not help but recognize that no one had really known Severus Snape, except perhaps Dumbledore. Such an air of guilt had swamped the event that he had been quite relieved when it was over.

They had also received word that Bellatrix had been cremated at Hogwarts, along with the other Death Eaters. While Lucius was uncertain if it had been the most sensitive action for the Ministry to take, he had no doubt that it would have thrilled his sister-in-law to know her body was burned alongside her master's.

For the last few days, the Malfoys had been living quietly. They took their meals together and went their ways about the house, socializing with each other when inclined to do so. Narcissa had discovered the bookshelves in her father-in-law's old study, and began to spend hours on the bench in the garden, reading to her heart's content.

Life felt almost normal. Lucius relaxed enough to tease his wife, who was still being coy with him. He could not deny his frustration on that count.

"Dearest, you really should eat something more than that," Lucius admonished her one morning at breakfast. The two of them were alone for the moment, and he decided to push the issue a bit.

Narcissa frowned at him. "One shouldn't force these things," she replied, popping another grape into her mouth.

Her husband shook his head. "That may be so, but I'm afraid my motives are not altogether unselfish." He slid closer to her and flipped her hair back over her shoulder, placing a light kiss on her neck. "For until you have decided you're content with your figure, I must eagerly await the day you will permit me to ravish you. And with that in mind, I respectfully implore you to at least have a bit of toast," he ended with a wicked smile.

Both Lucius and Narcissa were startled suddenly by a movement in the doorway. They glanced over to find their son staring at them with his mouth hanging open. His cheeks were growing pinker by the moment. "Right," he said awkwardly, and quickly excused himself from the situation.

Narcissa was bright pink when she looked back at her husband. "How long do you think he was standing there?"

"Judging by his reaction?" Lucius replied indifferently, "Long enough." He took another sip of tea.

His wife was working herself up. "I should go talk to him," she said suddenly, standing.

Just as quickly, Lucius grabbed her elbow with his free hand. "Narcissa, that's entirely unnecessary," he managed to choke out after swallowing his tea.

But she was insistent. "I will not have him trying to avoid us, Lucius; we're the only people he has to talk to at the moment."

She tried to leave and Lucius tightened his grip on her elbow. "Narcissa," he said firmly, sitting down his teacup, "You are only going to make things worse. He is seventeen years old, and you're his mother." How hard was it for her to understand?

Narcissa's look hardened, and she turned to face him squarely. "You will talk with him, then."

Lucius blinked. "Me?"

It seemed she was beginning to like the idea. "Yes, you. You're his father, and it's entirely your fault that he overheard anything at all."

That was absurd. "He does not need us to talk to him," Lucius protested.

But Narcissa was adamant. She leaned down and took hold of his arms, urging him to his feet. "Yes he does, Lucius. You owe him an apology."

Try as he might to argue, there was no reasoning with his wife. Lucius was forced to give in, and found himself trudging unwillingly up the stairs to his son's room.

Draco was sitting in an armchair with a cup of coffee, and upon seeing his father enter the room he rolled his eyes and shrank back into the chair. "Dad, we don't need to have this conversation," he said preemptively.

Lucius made a face. "Unfortunately, your mother insists that I offer you an apology," he replied, crossing the room to lean against the back of the chair opposite his son.

"Well let's imagine that you've already offered it, and I've already accepted. No need for further discussion," Draco suggested firmly.

Lucius smiled slightly. His son certainly had inherited the Malfoy inclination for talking his way out of situations. Lucius himself was not keen on continuing the conversation, but knew that Narcissa would come charging up here and talk to their son herself if she thought he hadn't done an adequate job of it, and he wished to spare the young man that particular chat. "I'm afraid there must at least be the appearance that a conversation has taken place," Lucius told him. "And as I've never been too adept at lying to your mother, that leaves us with one option."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Look, really. It's fine. I'm not traumatized or anything. I'm sorry to hear of your troubles, you have my condolences, let's never mention it again. Just try to remember that I live here, okay?"

"There is no need to be cheeky," Lucius replied coolly. If Draco was trying to ease his own discomfort by humiliating his father, it was not going to work, Lucius decided. The heat rising in his face only made him more resolute. "I am glad to hear the situation has not caused you any distress. In fact, since you are handling it so exceptionally well, I suggest returning to the sitting room, as it pains your mother to think of you hiding away in a corner somewhere."

Draco's cheeks flushed brighter. It was quite clear to both of them that he had absolutely no desire to go back downstairs.

Lucius' remark had its desired effect, and he had no inclination to mortify his son any further. In fact, he'd already begun to regret lashing out at him. Why did he have to do that? Feeling even more uncomfortable than at the start of the conversation, Lucius turned to leave the room.

"Dad?" Draco's voice halted him after a few steps, and Lucius turned to look at his son, who was leaning forward in his seat. "Please don't let mum try to give me a speech about this," he entreated anxiously.

Taking a step back toward him, Lucius assured him, "I believe I have already thwarted that effort." Draco relaxed visibly at that, and bore an expression so grateful that Lucius allowed himself a smile. He was quite ready to leave on that note, and headed once more for the door. "Don't stay up here all day," Lucius told him firmly, making sure he had eye contact with his son before escaping.

While her husband was upstairs, Narcissa had helped herself to some toast, for she did recognize her own need to gain weight, regardless of her husband's motivations.

She jumped when something rapped sharply against the window. Narcissa turned her head quickly and leapt to her feet. The sight that met her made her wish she hadn't eaten anything at all.

Three horned owls were perched on the window-box. It could mean only one thing. With a trembling hand, Narcissa managed to unlatch the window and open it. Immediately, the three owls flew in, and perched themselves on the back of the sofa. The one closest to Narcissa hopped to the end nearest her, holding out its leg. She bit her lip, trying to quell the fear that was rising in her stomach, and took the roll of parchment. The owl gave a satisfied hoot and disappeared out the window. The two remaining owls were looking at her expectantly, but when she reached her hand toward one of the letters, the bird took a nip at her hand. Narcissa flinched and pulled away.

"Pimmle," she said as loudly as she could manage. The elf appeared beside her.

"Mistress?"

"Locate my husband and son, and direct them here, would you?" She tried to keep her tone even, and not betray the apprehension that was forcing her to consider that she might want to sit down.

Narcissa's thoughts were swirling, and she could not bring herself to open her letter just yet. When Lucius and Draco appeared in the room around the same time, she did not need to direct them to the owls. As he passed her, Lucius briefly laid a hand on her arm. The next thing she knew, the two of them had opened their letters and were reading them silently. Her husband's brow furrowed as his eyes swept over the parchment. When he'd finished reading his, he strode over to Draco and unceremoniously took the letter from his hands, scrutinizing its contents. He finally handed it back to his son, with an air of something like satisfaction.

Lucius was suddenly before her. "Open it," he prompted.

With an awful sense of foreboding, Narcissa broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment. She read the contents word for word, each one adding a little weight to her chest, until when she'd finally come to the end, she turned the parchment over to her husband and sank down onto the sofa.

Lucius scanned her letter quickly before taking a seat next to her. "It's only a hearing," he verified, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Narcissa nodded emotionlessly. "On Tuesday." It suddenly occurred to her that it was incredibly soon for such proceedings. Was that a good sign? She looked up at Lucius. "Is yours the same day?"

Her husband shook his head. "Draco's is Wednesday. Mine is Thursday." He looked away for a moment, and Narcissa saw a flash of something cross his expression that she didn't particularly like. "It's a good sign, though, that they're calling it a hearing."

Something about his manner did not sit well with Narcissa. "Are they all the same, with the exception of the date?"

Lucius pursed his lips, and resented his wife's knack for asking the right questions. "Not all," he said slowly. He glanced over at Draco, who met his gaze with an uneasy countenance. "Mine was worded a bit differently," he revealed. Narcissa tensed, and Draco came closer, seating himself on the arm of the loveseat. Lucius took a quiet breath before continuing. "They'll be holding a public hearing, in my case."

Narcissa's stomach clenched into a little ball. "A trial," she whispered, barely able to form the word. Anger and fear began to bubble to the surface of her emotions, and she found her voice again. "Isn't it? A diplomatic way of saying its a trial?"

Her husband moved a steadying hand to her knee. "I am not surprised," Lucius said stoically. "I'm an escaped felon. The mere fact that they're calling it a hearing is a blessing."

In the last few days, life had begun to feel almost normal again, and Narcissa had allowed her guard to drop. Now, she realized that the threat of danger was still looming right above them, and it blackened and smothered any happiness that had begun to flourish in an inky cloud of dread.

The demeanor in the house was somber the rest of the day. The idea that they could have been caught up in some kind of normal family drama just this morning seemed absurd. When it came time for bed, Narcissa laid awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. She had just resigned herself to staying awake all night when she felt her husband's hand find her arm. "You're awake," he observed softly, moving closer to her.

Narcissa looked at him. His gray eyes were soft, watching her with something between concern and compassion. Wordlessly, she turned on her side and nestled herself against his chest. Lucius' arms wrapped around her, and they lay like that for a while.

The proximity of his wife's body was beginning to carry his thoughts in a direction Lucius had not intended. Narcissa shifted slightly, and the movement delighted his senses. He strictly redirected his thoughts; his wife needed comfort, and he was not going to trouble her on a subject upon which he already knew her feelings.

But her arm slinked around his waist, and he couldn't help reveling in the feeling. And now she was sliding her leg between his... Lucius felt his heart begin to race as he realized he could not possibly be misreading her intent. He tipped her face up toward him, and she brushed a gentle kiss against his lips. Lucius did not require any more temptation. He lost himself in a blur of movement, threading his fingers through her silky hair and running his other hand over her body, trying to rediscover every inch of her. Narcissa was pliant against him, pouring out her need and her love with soft kisses and brushes of skin. As their desire grew hot and unendurable they kissed harder, tangling their bodies together desperately. The few articles of clothing that inhibited them were carelessly pushed aside. Lucius climbed over her, lowering himself between her legs to meet her body, and in a surge of ardor he pressed himself inside of her, gasping as her body seemed to take hold of him. Narcissa wrapped her arms around his neck and there was nothing but her, her lips hard against his, her thighs cradling his hips, her breaths and her movements and the heat, oh the heat... Their bodies brushed together and her back arched and they became one flesh, with nothing existing but the urgent desire that sealed them together in a torrent of caresses and motion. They slowly built to a crescendo and lost all control, as waves of ecstasy overtook them and rolled through them until they were finally let back down to earth, entwined in each other and panting for breath.

Lucius let his head fall to her chest and collapsed into her arms. They gasped together for a few moments, unable to move, let alone speak. At last Narcissa began to stroke his hair, holding him tenderly against her chest as their breathing slowed and her thoughts slowly became coherent once more. An incredible wave of love for this man flooded through her, a warm surge, rising through her body and drawing tears from her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to be this close to him for the rest of her life.

And without warning, a lump formed in her throat. Her feelings of bliss began a gradual downward slide that quickly sped out of her control and plummeted her into despair as if thrown into freezing water. They would take him away from her. They would steal him away from her, and she would never get him back. She stopped stroking his hair and held him tighter, clenching her jaw and holding her breath to keep from completely losing her faculties.

Lucius lifted his head and kissed her chest, slipping from between her legs onto his side. His wife was in a state of beautiful disarray, with her hair spread out over the pillow, nightgown twisted haphazardly up around her waist and slipped off of one shoulder. She turned slightly and reached for him, and Lucius took her in his arms, pressing a kiss against the flushed skin of her cheek. Her body trembled, and she curled up close to him. The ecstasy of their exertion was falling away from him as well, transforming into a deeper, more tender, more significant, but no less ardent emotion that made him clasp her against him and cherish the feeling of her delicate figure enveloped in his embrace. When her body began to shudder and he felt her tears soaking through his pajama shirt he said nothing, but merely closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her hair, squeezing her more tightly to him, letting her take refuge in the strength of his arms around her. The same fear he knew was gripping his wife threatened to invade his consciousness, but he warded it off with the intense devotion he was feeling for Narcissa. He would not let anything take this time with her away from him.


A/N: So there you go. Lucius finally gets his wish. This was my first time writing something like this (normally I leave most of it to the imagination), so hopefully it went well. :) Leave me a review, it makes me so happy! And stay tuned for chapter seven!