The cottage was warm and almost silent, the only sound the scratch of Lucius' quill as it moved along the page in front of him. After a while the scratching paused and he rubbed absently at his temple before taking a draught of whisky and soda. Draco and Astoria's anniversary party had kept him up far too late the night before, contributing, no doubt, to the generally sick feeling and pressing fatigue he'd been battling all day. At least he only had a bit more to write and then he could settle down for a nap.

He wished that Harry was there to curl up on the couch with. Lucius hadn't been able to speak to his lover for a few days and he was starting to miss the young man acutely. Maybe after his nap he would make a floo call to invite Harry to the flat for the night. The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. Now if he could just finish this entry…

By the time he set his quill down again, a headache was coming on full force. He left the book open on the table alongside his half-full tumbler and staggered over to the couch. Pain lanced through his head when he tumbled into the worn leather and closed his eyes with a soft groan. Maybe he wouldn't see Harry tonight, after all.

There was a queer feeling in his fingers and he wondered idly what was causing it. He hadn't had that much to drink. Giving an inward shrug he dismissed it as being a byproduct of his tiredness and turned his thoughts back to Harry. A few minutes more he lingered before drifting into oblivion, a slight smile set on his lips.

oOoOo

Something was wrong. There was a feeling niggling at Harry and it just wouldn't go away. The odd thing about the feeling was that, as far as he knew, there was no reason for it. The only thing remotely out of the ordinary was that he hadn't heard from Lucius for several days. Harry normally received a small message from Malfoy by owl or a snatched few moments of conversation via floo on most days if they didn't meet in person. He told himself that the older man was just busy or perhaps he and Narcissa had gone away for a bit and Lucius had neglected to tell Harry.

As the auror scratched absently at his back, attempting to reach an itch between his shoulder blades, he tried to remember the last time he'd heard from his lover. He thought it had been Sunday – four days ago now. Yes, it had to have been Sunday because he and Ginny were getting ready for dinner at Molly and Arthur's when a note arrived by owl for him. After thinking about the matter for a while, he resolved to pay a visit to the manor that evening, just to reassure himself that everything was okay. Even after he'd made the decision, however, Harry still felt distracted.

Somehow he made it to lunchtime. As he tucked into the lunch Ginny packed for him, he opened up the Daily Prophet. He'd been too busy to read at breakfast and as he scanned the front page, the first bite of his sandwich turned to dust in his mouth. He barely managed to swallow as a picture of Lucius stared back at him. The photo was obviously an old one from the Prophet's files because Malfoy's proud countenance lacked a few of the lines Harry knew so well and the eyes were far colder.

Stock photo or not, it wasn't the picture that caused Harry's chest to clench painfully. It was the headline declaring loudly that Lucius Malfoy was dead. Through the fog of tears that sprang to his eyes, Harry read that the elder wizard had been found alone in a cottage on his estate by his son, Draco. There was no evidence of foul play and in fact, the young Mister Malfoy was quoted as saying that his father seemed to have gone quite peacefully. No further enquiry was being made and funeral arrangements would be announced shortly in the obituary section of the Daily Prophet.

Harry again tried to swallow the lump in his throat and after the fourth or fifth try managed it. He felt like his entire world was collapsing around him. How could Lucius be dead? He was so young, so vital!

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He couldn't afford to break down right now, not in the middle of the office. Ron was out for the day and Harry had too much work to do. The thought had no sooner entered his mind before Harry felt disgusted at himself. The man he loved every bit as much as he loved his wife was dead and here he was sitting in a bloody office, thinking about how much work he had to do.

Cursing vehemently, he slammed the case folder he'd been working on closed and shoved it into his desk drawer. Then he picked up his coat and umbrella and headed toward the door. Jamie's head popped up out of his cubicle as Harry stormed past.

"Who's died, Potter?" The young Scotsman's lighthearted question sent another lance right into Harry's heart.

Of course to Jamie it was only a figure of speech but the irony was something that Harry just couldn't handle at the moment. He could only shake his head and mutter, "Someone very close to me. I gotta go."

Jamie's face crumpled up into an expression of concern. "Potter…" Harry didn't stop to hear what the other man had to say. Their head of the department could upbraid him for it later; he simply didn't care at the moment.

As he walked down the hallway, a feeling of numbness started to settle in. Lost in his thoughts and memories, Harry didn't notice anything around him. A pretty young witch greeted him in the lift, her smile slipping into a frown when he didn't even acknowledge her. When he drifted out into the main entryway without a word, she just shook her head and pressed the 'close door' button.

Harry didn't stop until he was on the street outside. Then finally he paused and took another deep breath. Steeling himself for what he was about to do, he apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor and rang the magical bell. A face appeared in the stonework, looking down on him as it asked him to state his business.

"Harry Potter. Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I would like to speak to Mrs. Malfoy."

The stonework face scowled. "Missus Malfoy is not accepting visitors. In case you haven't heard, Master Malfoy has just died."

"I know that." It was a struggle to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "That's the reason I'm here."

"I was under the impression that the Ministry was not pursuing an investigation in this matter."

"Just tell Narcissa that Harry Potter wants to see her," Harry snapped at the guardian, "she'll make an exception for me."

Several minutes passed after the face disappeared and Harry waited impatiently. The guardian never did reappear but the gates swung silently open, allowing the auror to march up the path to the house.

As he went, his gaze was naturally drawn toward the cottage that he knew so well. Just seeing it there, dark and silent, sent another sliver of agony through him. He wanted nothing more than to sit down in the dirt and cry but he refused to give in to his sorrow. The weight of the choices he'd made was pressing down on him, crushing him under the load of regret and secrets that he must bear. God only knew what he was going to say to Narcissa but there was no way he was going to leave now.

A house elf met Harry at the door, wringing its tiny hands. The auror recognized it as Nippy, the elf that attended to Lucius when he needed something at the cottage. "Master Potter!" She squeaked in greeting. The little creature knew Harry well, of course. In fact the elf knew many things, had many secrets of her own to keep. "I am to lead you to my Mistress. Please follow me, Sir."

Harry nodded to the creature, gesturing her on ahead. Just being here made his heart race as he half-expected Lucius to stroll around the corner at any moment, a smile lurking in his pale eyes. Sadly though, no such thing happened and they traversed the deserted hallways without incident.

Narcissa received him in her private apartment and it was clear that she'd been crying. She rose when he entered the room but just stood looking at him in silence. Harry took in the sight of her red, puffy eyes and he felt a surge of pity for her. He knew precisely how she felt at this moment and he moved over without a word and took her hands in his, urging her to sit back down on the sofa as he sat beside her. There was a tremor in Narcissa's hands and it was a long time before she was able to speak.

"Harry. Why have you come here?"

He swallowed heavily and his own voice was low and raw. "I saw the article in the Prophet. I wanted to see for myself that it was true."

The witch bit her trembling lip and nodded, tears welling up again in her eyes. "It is." Her eyes searched his and Harry wondered uncomfortably if she was using legilimency. "Why are you really here, Harry?" she asked again.

Because I love him! He wanted to say it out loud but the words stuck in his throat. What would Narcissa do if he told her? Would he simply cause her more pain in her time of grief? Lucius had often said that they'd had 'an arrangement' but that didn't have to mean that the wizard's dalliances didn't hurt his wife in any way.

"I…" Harry had to clear his throat in order to reply. "I was wondering if I could see him."

For a moment, he thought she would refuse but instead she nodded. Rising from the couch, she led him back into the hall and then down several doors. Lucius was laid out on a bier in the formal parlor. He looked regal in his dress robes, a flow of red satin draping the table beneath him. His hair had been brushed out and he seemed so peaceful lying there.

Harry reached out to touch the man's shoulder and found that he was fighting back tears once more. Perhaps Narcissa Malfoy wasn't a legilimens but she certainly wasn't stupid. She turned and lifted her free hand to brush Harry's cheek. Even though Harry hadn't really answered her question, he knew that she knew – or at the very least suspected – the reason why he'd come. The stinging in his eyes became worse and suddenly he felt very ashamed of keeping secrets from this woman.

"I'm sorry." His words were a low murmur. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Shhh."

"But…" he had to swallow again, "but it was horrible of me to come here. Selfish." He turned, meaning to go and leave the poor woman to her grief. "I'm so sorry."

"Harry, please. Let's go back to my apartment." He turned back when she squeezed the hand she was still holding and gave his arm a light tug. "I really could use someone to talk to. Draco's off making funeral arrangements and anyway," a fleeting gallows smile strayed across her lips, "he wouldn't really understand my pain. I think you do."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." After a last glance at the dead man lying there, he let Narcissa lead him away. Once back in her sitting room, he resumed his spot on the couch and stared at his hands as they rested in his lap.

"How long?" she asked after a while.

"How long what?"

"How long were you and my husband lovers, Harry?"

Harry felt himself blushing but he didn't hesitate to tell her. "Almost four years. Give or take."

Narcissa quietly processed this new information. Finally she nodded as though something had just been confirmed for her. "I wondered what had changed him so dramatically during that time. I thought he might have found another woman but then he was paying so much attention to me," Harry felt his cheeks get warmer, "that I thought I must be mistaken. I never would have guessed about the two of you. Not in a million years."

Despite himself, Harry smiled a little. "Pretty odd couple the pair of us, hmm?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." He glanced at her and could see an answering smile lurking in her tear-stained eyes.

"You wouldn't?"

She gave his hand another squeeze as she shook her head. "You would have made a very handsome pair. That is to say, I'm sure you did make a very handsome pair."

Harry felt a new respect for the woman beside him when she said that. A tear slid from the corner of his eye. He brushed it hastily away. "I told him once that he was a very lucky man for having you. He told me that he knew it. Little did I know at the time how right I was."

"Thank you, Harry. And thank you for making him happy."

"Narcissa?"

She tilted her head, "Yes, Harry?"

"Would you have been this accepting? I mean, if you'd known before now. Or if he was…if he was still here and you'd just found out about it?"

Narcissa nodded slowly. "Yes, Harry. I would have been quite shocked, I won't deny that but if your relationship was what Lucius wanted, I wouldn't have raised a protest. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy."

"He wanted the same for you. You meant a lot to him."

"Thank you. Again."

The two of them sat there for a long time, not speaking, just silently sharing their grief and memories of the man that they had loved. Harry was glad now that he'd come. When at last he took his leave, he bent to place a soft kiss on Narcissa's ivory cheek. He still felt the gnawing ache of sadness but at least he had someone who understood to share it with. Perhaps for Harry and Narcissa, the world wouldn't end without Lucius after all.

oOoOo

It always rained at funerals. At least, that's the way it happened in movies. Harry, for one, was overjoyed that it wasn't raining at this funeral. Despite the dark chapters of Lucius' life, he deserved to be sent off in the radiance of a brightly sunny autumn day such as this.

The oak tree that Harry and Ginny stood under was wearing its fall colors and several errant leaves were already starting to carpet the ground beneath it. Ginny's hand was warm in his and he was glad for her solid presence, even if she still didn't quite understand why they were there. She'd been shocked when Harry had asked her to go with him and even more shocked when he'd explained that he and Lucius had become good friends. Fortunately she took the admission at face value and he hadn't been required to tell her the rest.

Harry still felt guilty about the lies he'd chosen to tell to cover up his affair but that guilt was a burden that he would shoulder for the rest of his life if need be. Looking over at Ginny's face, he knew he was making the right decision.

The burial service was a small gathering of people clustered around the family mausoleum. A few relatives had come from the continent and a handful of friends and acquaintances – mostly of Narcissa, though Draco's wife and some of his cronies were there too – stood by to lend their support. The spot that Harry had chosen was far enough away to escape more than cursory attention but still close enough to hear what was going on.

Narcissa eulogized her husband, calling him the love of her life, and then invited Draco to share his thoughts. The blonde wizard was far more subdued than normal and didn't say much of any consequence other than he'd miss his father. After he spoke, a few others offered some final words. Narcissa asked if anyone else wished to speak, her eyes turning to Harry and he shook his head, almost imperceptibly. She answered him with a slight nod of her own and turned to the wizards standing by to inter the body. Several minutes passed before the heavy metal doors clanged shut and the gathered company started to drift away.

At last only the two Malfoys remained. Draco left his mother standing before the doors, staring at them as fresh tears tracked silently down her face, and walked over toward Harry. The auror expected that there would be some sort of scene and he braced himself for whatever his former classmate had to say.

"Potter," Draco nodded to him and then glanced to Ginny as if seeing her there for the first time, "or I should say Potters?"

Harry nodded back. "Malfoy. I'm sorry for your loss."

Draco gave him an appraising look. "You really are, aren't you?"

The auror gave another nod and Malfoy's attention turned to Ginny again as she spoke, "I wish I could say the same, but I wouldn't want to tell a lie at a funeral."

"I thank you for your honesty, Mrs. Potter," his lip gave an amused twitch at the words, "but will you excuse us for a moment? I'd like to have a private word with your husband."

Harry wondered where Draco had found manners all of a sudden. It was a little disconcerting not to see a sneer on the blonde's face. Grief certainly did have its effects on people.

"If you promise not to try to hex, curse or jinx him, I'll allow it."

Malfoy gave her a half-bow. "You have my word."

Snorting, Ginny gave Harry's hand a squeeze. "I'll go say something nice to Narcissa then." She was certainly taking everything with good grace and Harry smiled as he placed a kiss on her lips. When she walked away, he watched her for a moment before he turned his attention to Draco.

"What do you want to discuss?"

"I know there was something going on between you and Father."

Harry made sure that his expression was deadpan and tried to keep his voice casual even though he felt uneasy. "Just what are you insinuating, Malfoy?"

"You know very well what I'm insinuating, Potter."

"Nope, I'm afraid I don't. Care to enlighten me?"

"The two of you were shacking up and I have proof."

"What proof could you possibly have, Draco?" Harry scoffed, taking a page from Snape's book to keep his voice from showing any of the fear or doubt that was suddenly gnawing at his gut like termites in an old house. That fear grew when Malfoy reached into his robes and extracted a worn leather book. A very familiar-looking worn leather book, in fact. It was the same one that he'd seen Lucius writing in on several occasions.

"Bet you didn't know that Father kept a journal, did you Potter?"

Fuck. "No, Malfoy, I didn't. And I'm supposed to believe that he wrote about me in it?"

"Indeed he did. Extensively and in intimate detail. Quite an interesting read, this book," the blonde flipped through it idly, toying with Harry and obviously enjoying it. So the politeness he'd shown only two minutes before had been an act. Harry should have known. He was about to say something when Draco snapped the book shut and offered it to Harry. The auror just stood there, looking at it dumbly.

"Well, don't you want it, Potter?"

"I…you mean you're giving it to me?"

"Obviously!"

By God, Draco looked and sounded just like his father when he said that. Harry felt like his stomach had dropped several inches and then bounced back up. Reaching out, he gingerly pulled the book from Malfoy's grip. The leather felt soft and warm in his palm and he turned it over slowly, admiring it. He had an instant and insane urge to smell it, but he managed to resist. That would come later, when he was alone.

"Why aren't you going to the Prophet with this or something? I'm sure you'd do a wonderful job of ruining my reputation and my life."

"It's good to know you think so highly of me," a wry smile graced Draco's angular face before it faded back to seriousness. "I loved my father, very much. I respected him and I respect his memory. After I found that book in the cottage, I read it from cover to cover and it's clear to me that you meant a great deal to him."

Suddenly Draco stuck out his hand, obviously expecting Harry to shake it. After a momentary hesitation, Harry did so. For a few seconds he thought that he must be dreaming. This just couldn't be real. Then Draco let go of his hand and fished around in his pocket once more. "He would have wanted you to have this too." Malfoy handed over a tarnished badge that read 'PREFECT.' "It was his, from when he was at Hogwarts. But then, I suppose you could have figured that out on your own." The smile was back.

Harry took it from Draco, wanting to protest but in his mind seeing again the look on Lucius' face when he'd protested the gift of the watch. Somehow he knew that the elder wizard would have wanted him to have it and Harry looked at Draco with gratitude. "Thank you."

It was apparently destined to be a day replete with the unexpected because Draco reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "If you ever miss him and want to, you know…talk about anything, let me know."

Feeling embarrassed, Harry rubbed the badge with his thumb and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"I mean it, Harry."

The auror was silent for a few seconds before he looked again at his former nemesis. "If you're trying to get me to trust you so that you can do something horrible to me, Malfoy, it's not going to work." His tone was far lighter than his words and Draco laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Of course it's not, Potter. I wouldn't expect anything less than complete paranoia from a Gryffindor."

"And who can blame us when Slytherins are involved?"

Draco smirked and let his hand fall easily back to his side. "Be careful what you say, Potter. My father was a Slytherin."

"Yes, and if he could rise above that handicap, there's hope for the rest of you yet."

A/N: Please don't hate me. I wrote the bulk of this in October 2010 on a plane bound for my best friend's wedding. My original author's note is below. I will be the first to admit that this still makes me cry. I'm sorry. Really, I am.

"Well there you have it, the end of the journey. I actually cried writing this chapter and that's more than a little embarrassing on a plane cruising at 30,000 feet. To be honest (because I'm a big emo, romantic fluffball) I hate sad or bittersweet endings with a passion but when that is what wants to be written, that's what gets written. Perhaps sometime in the future I will write a Lucius/Harry where they will get to keep their fairy-tale ending (bonus points if you know where that is quoted from ) but that is for another time. Thanks for all of the love and reviews all. *massive hugs* Jax"