Lucius Malfoy awoke to the sun's harsh rays. He groaned and buried his face into his pillow. He flexed his fingertips, caressing the empty satin sheets beside him. He shivered at the loss of the warmth and softness of his wife. He reached for the blanket, which lay in a crumpled ball at the base of the bed. He covered his shoulders, relishing in the warmth as he drifted back to sleep.

"What the bloody hell!" he exclaimed as the cool air hit his bare chest. He pressed his eyes shut, his hands fumbling for the blanket. He sighed deeply and rolled over.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy! What is this?"

Oh, shite. The words, each uttered harsher than the last, pierced his eardrums, forcing him to sit up. He opened his eyes and watched his journal fly toward him. He caught it, glancing at it for a moment.

"What is it?" she demanded, not bothering to give him a chance to process the bombshell she flung at him. He sighed deeply, slowly bringing his eyes to her face. He knew very well that he didn't want her to ask a third time.

"I can explain," he responded, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. His heart sank as he eyed her clenched fists, clenched jaw, flushed face and deep scowl. He couldn't look into her azure irises, which he knew held despair and disappointment. He felt the mattress sink as she sat cross-legged in front of him. Her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyes bore into him as she awaited his explanation.

Lucius took a deep breath, arched his back and rested his head in his hands. His knuckles brushed against the headboard, and he ran his fingers through his long locks. His mind moved a million miles a minute as he mulled over what to say to make her understand his intentions.

"Cissa, dear… you are aware that we are trying to rebuild our reputation as one of the elite Wizarding families. We cannot simply disappear into the shadows because of our past associations. We need support if we're going to climb back to the top. These families are more than willing to help us achieve our goal."

Her scowl deepened, and she pressed her crossed arms into her waist. Oh, shite. He knew his explanation wasn't good enough. A painful silence filled the room, threatening to swallow him. His fingers reached out to touch her bare knee, hoping a gentle, loving caress would pacify her.

"Do not touch me!"

She backed away and almost fell off the bed. She rose, walked across the room and sank into an armchair. Her head turned toward the window, and her chin rested in her hand.

Lucius dangled his legs off the side of the bed and picked his black boxer briefs off the floor. He stepped into them and scratched his stomach. He walked over to his wife and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Cool grey eyes locked with azure irises. His stomach sank to his feet as he saw the hurt and anger that filled them.

"The money?"

Is she serious? He gulped, knowing full well that she already knew the answer.

"My accounts are frozen so I accessed yours. I'll put it all back once they're available…"

"You entered my vault? You promised me you wouldn't."

"It was the only way."

"How much?" Her nails dug into the armrests, bracing for the worst. He leaned forward and whispered the amount into her ear. A sharp slap hit his left cheek with the force of a Beater hitting a Bludger. He winced and cupped his cheek, trying to divert his thoughts from the pain.

"That was a donation." She shook her head and turned away from him.

"I'm sorry, but I'd rather have their support than the Ministry's. The Ministry is full of people who hate us. No amount of money we give to them can change that."

"What happened to doing things the right way?"

"This is the right way."

"No, it isn't!"

"It is!"

"Is it true?"

He nodded.

She stalked over to her armoire and yanked the doors open with a force Lucius never knew existed in her. Two trunks fell to the floor, and Narcissa began filling them with her clothing.

"Cissa! Quit being ridiculous. You know what I'm doing is right. Stop!" he begged, his voice growing higher.

"Lucius, I'm leaving. There's nothing you can do to stop me. Get out of my face. Don't make me pull an Unforgivable on you," she threatened. "And, don't think I won't. After all, I learned from the best," she spat, pressing the tip of her wand into his neck.

He backed away, chest sinking in defeat. He knew better than to continue arguing with her. He slowly stepped out of the room, sadness overcoming him as he watched her place her belongings into her trunks.