By October, she was feeling marginally better- almost herself again. The potions she'd been taking had diminished her appetite, and while she'd eaten enough to keep her strength up, and only what was healthy, her weight had dropped almost to pre-baby numbers. And she wanted to go out.

Dear Rabastan,

I'm headed to Diagon Alley for a bit of shopping with my baby boy- I'd love to see you, and meet Lysandra too, if you two are still going well. Fortescue's at noon?

Love, Cissy

"Rebastan, there you are!"

"Cissy, Merlin, look at you! A son- bloody hell, you have a son!"

"My baby Draco," she cooed, flinging an arm around her friend and kissing his cheek. "Oh, and you must be Lysandra!"

The other lady gave a reserved smile. She was tall and slender, her skin a flawless tawny gold. She wore a tight, short, and low-cut dress, revealing shapely, smooth legs and a generous amount of cleavage. Long, light brown hair fell perfectly down her back, curling at the ends, and she regarded Narcissa wish speculative black eyes.

"Ah, yes. I am." Her tone was distant, and she strode forward on spiky heels to extend a perfectly manacured hand. "It's lovely to finally meet you, Narcissa. Rabastan's told me so much about you." Her voice held none of the warmth of her words. Grinning, Rabastan curled an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. The smile she offered him seemed less than sincere, but she kissed him back and fluffed his hair.

"And you thought I was exaggerating when I said she was beautiful, didn't you?" he accused Narcissa playfully.

"Oh, Rabby," Lysandra crooned, pressing highly glossed lips to his neck, "Have you been saying silly things again?"

"Nothing but the truth, my love," he returned adoringly.

Narcissa cleared her throat uncomfortably, and Rabastan quickly drew away. "Sorry, Cissy. Let's admire that boy of yours, shall we? And how are you these days? With Malfoy and all?" he asked as they settled into the seats outside the ice cream shop.

Suddenly, Lysandra, whose gaze had been wandering uninterestedly, looked up. "Lucius Malfoy?" she specified quickly. Narcissa nodded uncertainly, and she pressed curiously, "What relationship do you have to Lucius Malfoy?"

"He- he's my husband."

The other woman's eyes grew huge. "You're Lucius Malfoy's wife? Rabastan never told me that."

Rabastan frowned. "I hadn't realized it was relevant-"

"Yeah, whatever, sweetheart." Lysandra checked her watch. "Ah, pardon me, but I really must be on my way. Appointment that completely slipped my mind." She rose, but turned back to bend over and kiss Rabastan. He eagerly reciprocated, but she drew back, smiling teasingly and pinching his lips together. "Now, now, be a good boy, and I'll give you a treat later." She winked and sashayed off. Rabastan's eyes followed each step hungrily, and when he turned back to Narcissa, he was glowing.

"She's something, isn't she?"

"Indeed," Narcissa returned dryly.

"Anyway, forgive me for that. Are things still dreadful with Malfoy?"

"Well," she began slowly, "things are odd."

Rabastan raised his eyebrows. "That's... an improvement?"

"I don't know. Rabastan, I need to tell you something." She leaned forward taking his hands in her own, and put her lips very near his ear. "I'm only telling you this because I would trust you with my life. And I know you support the Pure-blood cause...Do what you will with it. Lucius... is a Death Eater."

Her fingers tightened around his, and she drew back to check his reaction. Shock? Anger? Bemusement?

A knowing smirk?

"Cissy, darling," he patted her hand condescendingly, and she jerked away, scowling.

"You can't possibly tell me that everyone already knows! If everyone knew, then he'd be in Azkaban!"

"No one knows who could breathe a word without incriminating themselves," he told her meaningfully. Her eyes widened.

"You mean to say that you...?"

Slowly, proudly, Narcissa thought, he nodded. "And others too, Cissy."

"People I know?"

"Spoken to your sister lately?"

Narcissa gasped. "Bella? Bella would tell me something like that!"

"And Rodolphus, Evan Rosier... you remember Crabbe and Goyle? Severus Snape, and, most recently... Rodtimer."

Well, that settled it. "I suppose... it's alright then."

"'Alright'? It's not the time nor place to go into further detail, Cissy, but let me assure you, it is more than 'alright'. Anyway, so you know Malfoy's one too. Has that in some way impacted you marriage?"

"Well..." she carefully explained to him the night she'd found Lucius dying on his bed, ending with the moment he'd asked her to lie. Rabastan breathed a low whistle.

"And what did you say to that?"

"You and I both know I can't lie worth a damn, and besides, I think I'd done more than enough for him that evening. So I finished what I was doing, and I left. We haven't really spoken since then."

"Seem's to me like he's crazy about you."

"That's... utterly preposterous. But... sort of the I've been getting, too. And I can't understand why! I mean, I've never shown him any indication that I have any interest in loving him."

"Some times we just can't help it," he said with a shrug.

"But he hasn't said anything," she argued.

"Hasn't he? So you could do what, Narcissa? Not respond and walk out of the room?"

"I don't love him though! I don't even like him. Half the time he's not even tolerable!"

"Maybe go home and talk to him. See if we're just imagining this."

"And what good will that do? It's like trying to converse with a brick wall."

"Give it a shot. Sit there long enough, and the wall might just say something back."

"Mipsie, is your master home?" After settling Draco down for his nap, she turned to her elf.

"Yes mistress. He is being in his study."

"Thank you."

When Narcissa pushed open the heavy wooden door, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Heavy drapes were pulled against the bright sunshine, casting the room into gloomy darkness. The only source of light was a fireplace that held only dying embers. She could see the back of Lucius's head silhouetted as he faced the hearth. His hand was extened to the table beside his armchair, and his long fingers were curled around a nearly empty tumbler, next to a mostly drained decanter. She certainly hoped that that had diminished over the course of time, and not all today.

"Where were you?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice- Narcissa hadn't known that he was aware of her arrival. "Diagon Alley. I went to visit a friend."

"You took Draco." His words were low and heavy and monotonous. He did not turn to face her, but the tumbler vanished briefly as he lifted it to his lips. When he set it back down, the alcohol was gone.

"Yes, well I wanted to introduce an old friend to my baby. Is that a problem?"

"Yes. You did not leave word of where you were going." Spoken slowly.

Irritation flooded her. "I didn't realize that I needed permission to briefly leave this particular prison. Any way, that isn't what I wanted to discuss. This friend and I were thinking and, now this may be totally ridiculous, but... Lucius, if you are under the notion that you love me, I suggest you rid yourself of it."

He did not reply, and the passage of time was marked by the steady ticking of a stately grandfather clock whose shape she could barely discern through the pressing grey. After waiting for all too many ticks to pass, she demanded, "Do you love me?"

When Lucius did not immediately reply, she bit her tongue to keep from yelling the question, although she was certain he'd heard her the first time.

"Did you know," he began, drawing out every word and pausing at the end of each one to stretch the phrase out for what seemed to be an eternity. "That I have bought you presents?"

"I- what?"

"One for each of your birthdays since we have been wed, one for the Christmases, and even for our anniversary. I spent hours picking out each one, imagining the look on your face when you opened it. Most are obscenely expensive, some are not- Do you know where those gifts are now?"

Narcissa stared blankly as he poured the rest of the decanter's contents into his tumbler, face still towards the fire.

"Not even a guess? Very well, I shall tell you. They are in my closet, all neatly wrapped and untouched. I tried to give you one- on our anniversary, perhaps you remember the day? Christmas came before that, of course, but you fled my home on that occasion, so long I though that maybe you had died, or run off with your precious Yaxley- I had to get your sister to tell me if you were still my wife. But any how, our anniversary. You were crying, but you wanted nothing to do with me... If I'd given you the bracelet I'd chosen, you probably would have spat on it and thrown it in a drawer to never be seen again."

Speechless, Narcissa watched as he drained the remaining amber liquid and set the glass down sharply.

"Do you remember our wedding night? I wish I couldn't. You asked me to turn the lights off, do you recall? You didn't want to see me. I could tell from your eyes that I disgusted you, and you couldn't bear to see or be seen by me. And then..." he paused drawing in a ragged, unsteady breath, "This is my favorite part: you asked- no, begged- me not to touch you. Do you remember that?" He gave a short, bitter laugh. "At first I thought, perhaps hoped, 'Well, she is a virgin. She doesn't understand what needs to be done.' But that wasn't the case, was it? No; you were sickened by the very idea of me. I coud feel your revulsion, your hatred- my mere eyes on your flesh was enough to make you skin crawl, wasn't it? I wanted you so badly- I wanted feel you come alive in my arms, respond willingly, if nothing else... But you cried. The entire time. I'm not certain whether or not you realized it, but you silently sobbed the whole time, and then ran out of bed to wash me away the moment it was over. And do you know what I did? I went into my room and was sick all over the carpet. I was so upset that I'd hurt you, it made me literally ill. And the very next day... You asked me if we were going on a honeymoon. If I had thought, for even a second, that it was because you wanted to be with me, I would have said yes in a heartbeat, and we would have been gone by morning. But I knew it wasn't, and being alone with your unending dispisal of me would have been torture. You could say I was selfish- I knew you wished to escape my family- but I refused. You told me again not to touch you, and then- I guess you thought I was asleep- but you said something to yourself about Chelsea being 'stupid' for electing to share my bed? Flattering darling, I really must say...

"I though maybe a child would help things. I was elated when you told be you were pregnant the first time. I wanted so badly to kiss you! But you, my dear, stubborn wife, would have none of that, would you? Not even at one of the most joyful points in our marriage. Not even when I hadn't once kissed you since we agreed to our wedding vows, and I would hardly consider that a kiss, anyway. Not a kiss like you gave Yaxley, in front of all those people at the ball where our engagement was announced. Or the one when he was leaving St. Mungo's after Draco's birth. Merlin, those were both fun occasions, weren't they? But I thought the pregnancy would give you a bit of relief, maybe you'd smile occasionally now that you were rid of me from your bed. But you didn't, and that letter you were writing to your sister... Bloody hell, Narcissa, I was so careful never to hurt you, to make it any worse than you were making it for yourself. I read that note over and over again when I found it in your room, and I can still recall the words perfectly: 'Lucius seemed pleased too, perhaps he was getting impatient. I've already decided to love the baby, if not its father. I wonder if this is how impregnated rape victims feel, just knowing that there is an entirely innocent soul within them, untainted by their sire.'" He stopped. "Rape, Narcissa, is a very strong word. I may have commited many crimes, but never one so vulgar as that. As for my so-called impatience... I would have happily spent hours every night making love to you, if only you would let me. Nothing would have given me more joy than than to wake up beside you each morning. It was not a baby I wanted. It was your happiness. And since your happiness excluded me entirely, in fact, was damaged by my mere prescence- how could I not want to be able to stay away?

"And then Beatrice pushed you. My littlest sister is the only person in the world I can talk to, the only person who won't judge me. She loves me unconditionally- too much, you may have realized by now. She knew how you were hurting me, and she hated you for it; 'She was very young... she did not understand that to push an inconvenient person over a cliff solves nothing,'" he quoted wryly. "In fact, in this case, it made the situation quite worse. I had no option to send my darling little sister, my only joy, away- and my father, your only joy, went with her. The baby was gone, but you would not permit me to grieve with you. So while you suffered daily for the loss, I swept that particular pain with all the rest beneath a cool facade and continued on with life. 'Wait a month,' the Healer said, and almost ten months later, you still tried to convince me it was too soon. But that was because you needed time to do your research, wasn't it? Research on babies conceived without sex. Because, obviously, you would rather humiliate both of us with an unnecessary procedure rather than face touching me ever again. Did you ever find, in all your studies, that that was meant for couple who loved one another, who wanted to procreate, but were unable to? I hardly believed we fell into that category, so I denied the request. Eventually, you became pregnant again. Once more, I was overjoyed, but knew better than to show you, this time. But... something was wrong. You didn't want to tell me, but then you did. What was your justification for keeping the baby, again? It wasn't because you wanted it, nor because you wished to carry on our bloodlines. It wasn't even because you'd agreed, in our marriage contract, copied almost word for word from my own parent's, to do all that was physically possible to deliever a Malfoy heir. It was... ah, yes. It was because you would rather die than live alone with me. Touching, truly heartfelt and touching...

"I would come to check on you at night and one time... you were smiling. You must be baffled by this obsession appear to have with your smile, but you must recognize that, not once, not even before our engagement, have you smiled at me. I've seen your smile and heard you laugh before... You smile at Draco, at your mother and sister, at Yaxley and Lestrange- at polite sales clerks and other people's children, at fellow mothers you pass down in the village, at faces you dimly recognize from your school days. You smile when your elf brings you something and occasionally thank her. But not once, once, have you ever smiled at me.

"Anyway, back to that night. You were smiling in your sleep, so I though I would risk touching you. I'd seen others place their hands over your stomach and exclaim in delight over our child's movements, but I'd never been granted the opportunity to do so myself. At first I felt nothing, but then you... you..." he paused, seeming to be momentarily overwhelmed, "You put your hand over mine, guiding it so I could feel his little flutterings. You must think me to be a fool- of course, I should have realized you were dreaming of him. But for one breathless moment, I thought..." he stopped, and shook his head. "Nevermind what I thought. You woke up just then and pushed me away, and all was back to normal.

"Then, you were in labor. How frightened I was! I wanted to stay by you, encourage you and give you strength, be there with you when our only child was born- but no. You would rather have died alone than with me at your side. I could accept that- had to, really. What other choice did I have? The more calm you were, the better your chance of surviving, and I couldn't be responsible for your death because I was too selfish to step aside. And then... that nurse came out. You must have been asking for Yaxley; not a surprise, really, because you do it all the time: when you're in pain, when you're happy, in your sleep. But she said that you were frightened and asking for 'Mort'. What else could I do? You didn't really want to be alone, you just didn't want me. So I went to find him. I brought him back and everything went well, so I suppose I can't regret my decision. Even if he was the one that held you through labor, that kissed you and promised that all would be well. Even if he was the first person to hold my son. Draco didn't cry and your screams had stopped- I thought you had both died. Nearly thirty minutes passed befor anyone came out to tell me otherwise, that you were both alive. For half an hour, I though I had killed you. Perhaps some wouldn't blame me, but I would; Yaxley would too, and you sister. For thirty minutes, Narcissa, I wanted to die. I couldn't move, could scarely breathe, and then someone strolls out, casual as could be, and says 'Oh, were waiting out here all this time? Mrs. Malfoy is going to make it, and she's got a perfect baby boy, too.'

"Things seemed alright for a while, other than the fact you wanted a nanny so I might not be able to care for my son. And then that night... I was hurt, and you took care of me, and I thought 'At last, perhaps she will change her mind. Perhaps she does not so desperately want me dead'. But you wouldn't even allow me that illusion, would you? I asked, but you wouldn't... even... lie."

He lapsed into silence and Narcissa stood staring at the back of his head, immobile with shock. Then, terribly slowly, he began to rise. She realized she was shaking as he moved forward, but could not bring herself to flee. He stalked towards her carefully- she could recognize that he was very drunk, although not a single word he had spoken had been slurred.

He didn't stop until he was directly before her, so close that her nose nearly touched his chest as he looked down at her.

"So you ask, do I love you? Yes. I love you. You believe I should rid myself of the notion. Do think that there is anything I would not give to be able to do that?" He didn't wait for a response. "But I am done with it all. I am not a masochist, contrary to what this may look like. You will see on that table a stack of parchments. Read them and sign them. They are divorce papers. An embarassment to the Malfoy name, to be certain, but the only duty I feel any longer is to my sanity. The only thing it stipulates that you may not agree with is that Draco shall remain mine. You may, of course visit him whenever you'd like, and weekends could be yours, we would divide holidays- but he would need to spend more time with me than with Yaxley. His loyalty would have to be to his true father- he would have to be a Malfoy in more than just name and breeding. Other than that, you will find that I have no demands, and I will grant any of your requests within reason. You will leave this marriage richer than you entered it, and I will have a son- I suppose we can both say we did quite well for ourselves."

Finally, Narcissa found her voice. "Why take Draco from me? You can remarry, have other children; he will always be my only."

"So selfish," he hissed coldly. "I offer you a king's ransom, and I am not taking Draco from you, just requiring that you do not steal him from me. I will never remarry; he is my sole heir."

Narcissa stepped back. "Very well, then." She turned on one heel, and marched from the study. However, once she was out of his sight, she ran. She sprinted through the Manor into her bedroom, grabbed a quill and parchment, and scratched hastily,

Mort, I must see you immediately.