"Malfoy!" Bellatrix had waited impatiently until her sister had fallen asleep, and burst unceremoniously into Lucius's study. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

"I thought I was replying to a letter from the minister- but perhaps I am mistaken and somehow caused you grievous offence?"

"Crucio!" she shouted, raising her wand. Lucius's initial yell of pained surprise was instantly stifled, and Bella watched with glittering eyes as he pressed his lips together, expression crumpled and and tightened in agony. However, she couldn't have him hazy- regretfully, she lifted the curse. For a moment he couldn't speak, gasping quick gulps of air as he fought to regain his composure.

"What the he-"

"Silencio! You're lucky I haven't killed you yet, so don't start with me! I may yet change my mind. Did you really think you could get away with it? My baby sister, and you thought I wouldn't hear about it? That I wouldn't care? Crucio!" she cried. His back arched as he tried in vain to twist away from the spell, and Bellatrix laughed before raising to curse once more. "Now," she continued, placing her hands on her hips. "I don't want to hear you pathetic explana-" Her words were cut short as Lucius sprang up, drawing his own wand to immobilize her. He lifted the silencing charm as well, and stalked towards her.

"You will never raise your wand to me again, least of all in my home," he snarled, eyes shining with menace. "My marriage is none of your concern, and if you attempt to interfere again, I'm afraid I will be unable to permit you back on the Manor premise. As it is, I believe you have over stayed your welcome."

"I'm here on my sister's invitation, not yours, and I'll be here as long as she wants me."

"Your sister invited you with my permission, to my home. And due to your uncivilized behaviour, I am revoking my assent."

"You married her; doesn't that make it hers too?"

"No. Get out."

"This is a side of you I've never seen Malfoy. You really are awful. Pity, I used to think you were kind of fun. My poor little Cissy." She shook her head in exagerated sorrow, but there was real anger behind the words. "Do you not feel guilty at all? Making her so bloody miserable?"

"Out, Bellatrix!"

Narcissa woke up the next morning, eagerly anticipating the day for the first time in ages. But when she went down to the dining room, she found only her husband present.

"Are Bella and Rodolphus sleeping in?" she asked as she slid into her seat.

"No. They returned to their home."

"What?" Her fork clattered to the plate. "She left? When?"

"Last night. I asked her to go."

"Why? You had no right-"

"I believe I had every right to ask her to leave my home," he interrupted coldly. "She over stepped her boundaries, and perhaps when she has learned to behave like a civilzed human being, I will allow her to return." He continued eating, seemingly unperturbed by Narcissa's glare of utter loathing.

"That's my sister you're talking about," she spat. He didn't reply. "Every little thing that might make me happy at all, you just have to ruin it, don't you?" Still, he said nothing. "What, used up your quota of words for the day?"

"I assumed that question was rhetorical."

"It was, but you still could have said something."

The stony silence continued for the rest of the week, into the next month, and beyond that. Narcissa liked to tell herself it didn't bother her; she had things to keep her occupied. She was in charge of running the Manor now that Mrs. Malfoy had left, and telling the elves what to do and buy, inspecting their work, shopping whenever confinement became too oppressive.

On the day of their anniversary, she couldn't handle it anymore.

A year. Three hundred and sixty five days she had been married, and somehow, it felt like an eternity. The time spent with Mort, her happiness, seemed to exist a lifetime ago.

She curled up beside the window. It was raining, fitting in a way that seemed comforting. It made her feel as though her tears had company.

"Narcissa?" A soft knocking interrupted her musings.

"What?" It came out more sharply than she'd intended it too, but the door opened anyway.

"Are you alright? You..." he paused, "didn't come down for breakfast." Lucius took a tentative step into her room, her sanctuary that he had not invaded since she'd lost the baby.

"I'm fine." If she made her voice unfeeling, he might not hear her crying. He moved closer, steps slow but deliberate.

"Perhaps we should... talk." In his voice, it sounded like a foreign concept to her.

"There's nothing to say," she replied quietly, still staring outside. He didn't speak for a moment, but when she felt his touch upon her shoulder, her head snapped around so she could glare at him. The hand was immediately retracted, and she thought she saw him shove something in his pocket.

"Very well," he murmured, turning and walking briskly from the room.

It was some months later the next time he came into her room. This time, she had just settled into bed, and felt a stab of horror when he knocked, three times, and opened the door.

"What it?" she demanded, knowing the answer perfectly well. He knew this, and didn't reply as he closed the door behind him. "Really, Lucius," she said quickly, clutching the sheets more tightly against her, "I don't think it's a good time. The Healer said we should wait before trying again."

"He said wait a month. It's been ten times that."

"I-I don't think I'm ready."

"I know nothing will ever replace the baby we lost," Lucius began.

"You mean I lost," she corrected bitterly under her breath.

"Narcissa," he sighed; quiet and restrained.

"You know..." she paused, twisting the blanket covering her, unsure of how to broach the subject she wished to discuss. She had the very distinct feeling he would not appreciate her side of the arguement she meant to present.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"There..." She forced the words out in a rush. "There are things that can be done, by Healers and other trained professionals, things that could guarantee a boy, an heir for you, on the first try, things that wouldn't require us sleeping together. Quick, painless treaments. The Healer said it would be more difficult for me to concieve again, and I don't think we should waste time trying." She spoke the entire speech to her lap, and glanced up nervously at the end to gauge his reaction.

His face was a perfect, still mask, eyes carefully guarded and staring beyond her shoulder. There was a funny tightness about his mouth that she couldn't identify the meaning of, but maybe, she told herself, it was just the way his mouth was, and she'd never noticed before. In fact, he seemed to be taking it better than she'd hoped- she just wished he would say something. It had been almost a full minute.

"Lucius?"

He exhaled sharply, eyes sliding shut. He stood abruptly, and strode quickly out the door. After a moment, she heard his door slam from down the hall.

(A/N: So I only got eight reviews last chapter, which kinda made me sad. And, as one reviewer pointed out, I've been updating my Twilight stories more than this- I've just been having so much fun with a new fandom! And if you guys wanted to check those out too, I'd LOVE that. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten this one, no worries! Although, i WOULD appreciate a bit more input on the direction this story is going... (BLATANT REVIEW BEG) :D )