Lucius paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in his study. He could not believe the way this evening had panned out. Never in a thousand years would he have guessed that Narcissa would open his private mail. Breaking into his study, snooping around without actually touching anything – that was the Narcissa he knew. But for her to have the nerve to open a letter meant for him... He shook his head angrily. For her to blatantly defy him like that, without thought to the consequences! He sorely hoped that she had relayed the contents of the letter accurately; if he missed something important, they would all be in serious danger of failing miserably. And Lucius couldn't afford to fail the Dark Lord, not on an operation of this importance.

His thoughts returned to his wife. He had not an ounce of pity for her. In fact, he'd never been more angry with her in his entire life. If this had been his mum and dad, 'Mummy' would not have been getting out of bed for a very long time; and at the moment Lucius could empathize with his father. Narcissa... he'd wanted to hurt her. Really hurt her. A little slap in the face and a little tug on her hair – he'd wanted to do so much more. He could've really hit her, so that it did more than just scare her. She deserved it...

Lucius stopped and stared into the fire. When had he become like his father? He felt his chest constrict slightly, and he clasped a hand over his mouth. Unlike his father, he loved his wife.

A sob rose in his chest, and he pushed it down with all his strength. Narcissa was his sweet, beautiful darling... He didn't really want to cause her pain. ...But Merlin she could be so STUPID when she drank! Just a few glasses, and all her decision-making skills went straight to hell...

But he couldn't blame the alcohol. Narcissa had openly betrayed his trust, and she'd known what she was doing.

He leaned against the mantle, gazing into the flames. She'd gotten what she deserved, no more and no less. The fact that he'd wanted to really hurt her upset him deeply, but he felt that he'd adequately controlled that impulse. Cissa was not hurt, she was merely upset, which would serve well to control any urge to meddle in the future.

He wasn't sorry.

Narcissa awoke from her very light sleep feeling exhausted and sore all over. She glanced over at the other side of the bed, but Lucius did not occupy it. Either he'd left already, or he'd never come to bed.

Slowly, she sat up. Seeing that the bedclothes on the other side were laying perfectly smooth, she doubted that he had ever come to bed. Sighing miserably, she slowly pulled back the covers and slid to her feet, wincing at the dull ache in her muscles. She walked over to the mirror, staring at her reflection. She was a mess – tangled hair, dark circles beneath her eyes. The sick feeling that had pervaded her stomach the previous night still refused to go away.

The door to the room opened very quietly, and her husband came in, equally silent. He first glanced at the bed, but, finding her not there, looked over to where she stood, his expression betraying his slight surprise. Very quickly, though, he recovered from his surprise and adopted a very curt expression. Lucius came toward her, walking purposefully, and Narcissa immediately became apprehensive. He didn't touch her, though, and actually passed by her without so much as a nod, heading for their large wardrobe. He was still wearing his Death Eater robes, she noticed. Timidly, she turned slightly toward him. "Did you sleep at all?"

He raised his head at the sound of her voice, but did not turn to face her, and continued unbuttoning his robes. "No," he replied tersely.

Narcissa bit her lip, uncertain of what to do. One part of her wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness, the part of her that felt sick knowing he was angry with her. Another part of her was too afraid to do anything – after all, he had completely lost control of his temper last night, and he was slowly becoming more physical with her all the time. Before the events of these past weeks, he'd never laid a hand on her when he was upset with her. Part of her was furious with him for treating her like that, and for concealing something so important from her. And still another part of her was sincerely worried about him. He was going to break into the Ministry of Magic, where he'd be a sitting duck for the Aurors. It was just plain foolhardy. Preoccupied with these thoughts and feelings, Narcissa just stood there, watching him change out of his Death Eater robes and into something more comfortable.

Lucius finished dressing and turned around to face her. Startled by his sudden movement, she flinched, reflexively ready for him to shout at her some more. However, his expression changed as he stared at her. His face, which had initially expressed brusqueness, slowly transformed into a look resembling... horror? The sick feeling in her stomach became worse. "What?" she asked, confused and quite a bit frightened.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice quieter than she'd been expecting.

"What are you talking about?" she asked nervously. He took a step forward as she said this, and she shrank away from him.

He continued moving toward her, and she unconsciously backed away as he did. "Cissa, stop it!" he cried, in a tone of voice she didn't understand.

Had he finally lost it? She shook her head slightly, still moving away. "I don't know what you mean, – "

Lucius strode forward quickly, grabbing her upper arms. Narcissa steeled herself for the bruising pain, but was surprised to find his grip very gentle. "Why are you backing away from me like that?" His voice sounded a bit constricted, as though he was choking back his emotions.

Narcissa looked up at him, realizing why he was upset. For a long moment, she stared at him plainly. Was he seriously asking her that? "Well, Lucius... for all I know, you're still blazing mad at me."

He studied her eyes almost frantically. "But I didn't hit you, Cissa; I didn't..." His voice trailed off.

A flash of anger went through her mind. "Actually, you did." The outraged part of her was taking over, now that he wasn't so threatening. He was going to downplay how he'd reacted? Certainly not!

"A little slap, that was all!" he retorted defensively.

She pulled out of his grasp. "Nonsense. You went flying off the handle and threw me around like a doll! How dare you make light of the way you treated me!" she responded, furious. Needing an excuse to turn away from him, she went over to the bed and fixed the covers where she'd been sleeping.

Lucius remained where he stood. "Narcissa, I did not do anything that you didn't deserve."

"Well, if he were here, I'm sure your father would agree."

Her husband took a few steps toward her. "Don't bring my father into this!" he hissed, clearly hurt by the reference. "It didn't ever occur to you that I might be right, did it? That maybe you really didn't need to know. No, that you shouldn't know," he demanded.

Narcissa turned away from the bed, starting to retort, but he cut her off. "It didn't even cross your mind that I was trying to protect you, did it? I'm not a fool, Narcissa; I'm well aware that breaking into the Ministry is an enormous risk to take! So what if we were to fail now, hmm? You knew. You knew that we were going to do it, and you're an accomplice for not reporting it to the Aurors." He stared down at her, angry but controlled, and guilt began trickling into Narcissa's consciousness. "Somehow I don't think you would last too long in Azkaban."

That comment set her off again. "I could say the same for you," she responded.

Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly. "If your worthless cousin could survive there and escape, I'm sure I would cope just fine."

"We'll see," she answered snidely, and immediately regretted it.

"Will we? And you're looking forward to this." With a haughty and hurt look, he turned his back on her and began walking away.

"Lucius, don't, please!" She hadn't meant to insinuate that she wanted him to end up in prison. His pace slowed. "You know this mission is a foolish one! You know you're bound to be caught!"

He stopped and turned to her. "On the contrary, I know of no such thing."

There was a long silence, in which Lucius studied her with an odd expression on his face. Narcissa could not think of a response for him, nor could she quite place the expression he was wearing. In a way it made her uncomfortable, but he seemed more concerned than contentious. Finally unable to stand it anymore, she fixed him with a look that clearly demanded What?

He took her in for another moment before responding. "You had better pray that the Dark Lord never gets wind of any of this." He paused again, gazing at her. "For as much as you think I'm a monster, it would destroy me if I was ordered to harm you." Lucius clenched his jaw for a moment, his eyes fixed on her. Abruptly, he turned and walked toward the door, saying over his shoulder as he left, "Forgive me if I hurt you last night."

The door shut behind him.

Lucius had just asked for her forgiveness? She stood with her mouth gaping for a moment, shocked. Her husband had just apologized for something he'd done. Suddenly, everything was all right again. He never came out and admitted that he was wrong; he would never do that unless he felt truly terrible about it. Recovering from her initial shock, she sprang forward, opening the door and hurrying down the hallway after him.

"Lucius!" she called after him. He slowed to a halt, turning partway toward her. She slid her arms around his waist when she finally reached him, training her gaze on the front of his robes instead of at his face. "Lucius, I'm sorry for betraying your trust like that; I didn't mean any harm. I just couldn't bear not knowing what danger you're facing..." She realized she was making excuses. "No matter. What's done is done." She stopped to take a breath, then sighed. "And I do forgive your ...aggression yesterday, though I must make clear that I really would rather not have my hair pulled in the future."

For a moment, she felt his cheek against her hair, and his hands held her gently at the elbows. The next moment, though, he raised his head and sighed quietly. "This does not mean I'm happy with you, Narcissa." Slowly, she lifted her chin to look at him. He seemed very tired, and still quite stressed. She nodded that she understood. Lucius gave her arms a soft squeeze before releasing them and moving away, heading for the staircase.

The sickening feeling in Narcissa's stomach finally eased a little as she watched her husband descend the stairs. With a quiet sigh, she went to begin the tedious process of untangling her hair.

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A/N: Well, hopefully that makes things a little better! Poor Cissa and Lucius. Hopefully they'll figure it all out, soon.
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