Chapter Thirty Two
A/N: No reviewers.
It had taken five sleepless nights and seemingly unending days before Narcissa finally received a visitation permit from the Ministry, but the rush of adrenaline more than made up for her exhaustion. She had only been allowed a brief half hour with her husband, far too little time to say everything she wanted to, but it would have to be enough and Narcissa refused to waste a second of it.
That was what she told herself as she sat in one of the thousands of faceless Ministry offices, tapping her foot impatiently against the floor. Her eyes had not left the door for the past ten minutes, except to check how many seconds had ticked by since the last time she glanced at her watch. The worker who had escorted her to the office, one of a thousand stern-looking men in pinstripe suits, had given no indication whether she would be waiting ten minutes or ten hours, but the anticipation was already becoming too much to bear.
The door slammed against the wall as it opened, the one who opened it clearly having no care for the nerves of the woman inside. 'Or they do not care about my reaction.' Narcissa reasoned, an option just as likely. However, she paid it little mind once the inconsiderate woman moved to the side, revealing her Lucius stood in the doorway.
The woman closed the door just as quickly, not wanting to waste any more time on the Malfoys. It suited Narcissa well enough, for she was free to throw her arms around her husband, holding as close as she could do with his hands bound behind his back.
"Oh, Lucius." she sighed, inhaling deeply. The scent of sandalwood and French cologne filled her nostrils, just detectable beneath the foul stink of Azkaban. The smell was like a protection spell, filling her heart with an overwhelming feeling of safety. But it was not to last. Eventually, the haze of happiness faded, and Narcissa could not help herself but to lash out, pummeling her fist against her husband's chest. "How could you have been so stupid?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Lucius told her, conceding defeat far more easily than Narcissa would have expected. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders, making him seem to slump where he stood, and the same guilt was heavier in his eyes. "It should have been an easy mission, I don't know how we were caught. The Dark Lord said he would provide protections for us, make sure we got away cleanly."
Narcissa's lips trembled, her mouth dropping open a little. She had almost forgotten Lucius had been incarcerated, trapped on an island far away from anyone. It seemed almost inconceivable that he would not know what had happened that night.
"Lucius, the Dark Lord is dead." The woman did not know quite why she was whispering. The news was common knowledge in the Ministry, but in the precarious position they were in, she did not want to be caught even mentioning the man's name.
If Lucius had seemed pale before, it was nothing compared to now, his face the colour of fresh-fallen snow. His hands had begun to tremor and Narcissa clutched them tightly in her own, leading her husband to sit at the small table with her.
"Dead?" he finally managed to say, as if he may have misheard. His wife only nodded. "How?"
"We're not quite sure." Narcissa answered, stuttering a little. "He went to the Potters, at their hiding place in Godric's Hollow. He killed James Potter and his wife, then he disappeared. He didn't manage to kill the boy."
"The boy's alive?" Lucius pressed, seeming even more shocked, if possible. "Why would the Dark Lord have left him be?"
"Perhaps he died before he found him." she dismissed. "Lucius, it doesn't matter. He's gone. There's no one to hold your allegiances over your head."
Finally, her meaning clicked in her husband's mind. His eyes flitted to the door in panic. "Cissa, you're mad."
"I'm not." she rebutted quickly. "No one knows the extent of your loyalty to the Dark Lord and anyone who does could not implicate you without condemning themselves. All you have to do is claim they weren't your true loyalties. You would hardly be the first, and it's more than believable."
"The Imperius Curse." Lucius reasoned. Narcissa nodded her confirmation. "If I'm found guilty…"
"You won't be." the woman pressed further, desperate to convince him. This was the only chance they had. "I'll volunteer for questioning. They use Veritaserum. If I manage to convince them you were not involved of your own free will, they would not be able to question it."
"Narcissa, no." Lucius' voice was firm, the commanding tone he used to master the Ministry. It was a faint hope that his wife would listen, she seeming to be the one person in the world who had immune to the tone, but he tried nonetheless. "Lying to the Ministry is a grave offence. You could be carted off to Azkaban right alongside me if they see through you."
"Lucius, you know me well enough to know I have my ways." The comment was cryptic, Narcissa's eyes turning to the door for a moment, but it was enough for him to understand. "I love you, darling. I promise, it'll all be alright."
"Of course it will." Lucius agreed, smiling gently. The two leant across the table dividing them, sharing a lingering kiss, filled with all the sweetness and love and hope they could muster. They wanted to hold each other, to cling to one another, the way they may never get another chance to do, but this would have to be enough for now. 'There will be other chances.' Narcissa told herself firmly. 'There have to be other chances.'
Her lips tingled for long after she was ushered out of the Ministry, her skin savouring the memory of closeness. She had to be strong now, for the sake of her family, her darling husband and the sleeping baby tucked up in his cradle. It did not matter the risks, what she may have to sacrifice. She would make sure they were all together again soon.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review!
