"Hey, sweetie," Narcissa crooned, scooping up her son and kissing his forehead. "Do you know what time it is?"

He cooed, smiling aimlessly and reaching up for a handful of her hair.

"Bath time!" she sang, twirling him out of the room. Still humming, she filled his small tub with warm, bubbly water, and placed him gently inside. He immediately began to shriek with glee, slapping his palms on the surface simply for the sheer joy of splashing. Narcissa laughed along with his babyish giggles, nuzzling her nose to his. "We'll get you nice and clean before your father gets home, yes?"

He grinned broadly, and gave a sudden, delighted squeal. "Da-da!"

Narcissa dropped the soap in shock. "What? Draco, love, what did you say?" The child held out his arms, and Narcissa gasped when she felt a hand on the small of her back. She half turned to look up at Lucius, who was currently regarding their son with a small, shining smile.

"Hello, Draco," Lucius murmured, reaching out to brush the boy's cheek with his fingertips. He turned to his wife, happiness lingering in his gaze. "Hello, Narcissa. Did you have a pleasant day?"

"I..." She felt strangely flustered at the warmth that seemed to be emanating from him, and the hand on her back was, for some inexplicable reason, making it difficult to think. "Yes. I did, thank you. How was yours?"

"Fine," he replied, for a moment caught up in her breathless stare.

"Did, er..." Narcissa jerked her head away, looking instead to the tiny boy in the bath, "Did you teach him that?"

"I did," he confirmed. "Although, I've never heard him repeat it."

His first word. Narcissa wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her head on Lucius's chest. "How wonderful that we could both be here, then."

For a moment, he seemed uncertain of how to respond to her affection; he hadn't been sure if everything that had changed last night would be lasting.

"What a splendidly clever son we have," Narcissa sighed.

"Our son," Lucius murmured, eyes warm. "He is indeed."

Narcissa turned back to the basin to resume her task. Lucius lingered close behind, and cautiously, as though to test her reaction, swept her long blonde hair from the back of her neck, and gently pressed his lips in its place.

She smiled.

"Oh, I nearly forgot- we'll be having a guest over this evening."

"A guest?" she echoed, lifting Draco from the water and swathing him in a towel. "Anyone I know?"

"An acquaintance of mine; perhaps you remember him from school? Severus Snape- although I believe he was several years your junior."

Narcissa tilted her head to the side, thinking. "That strange one, was he? With his nose always in a book?"

Lucius chuckled. "Very eloquent, my dear. Yes, he'd be the one."

"And what's the nature of the visit?"

"We need to discuss... politics," he said carefully, then shrugged. "And I thought you two would get along well."

Personally, Narcissa very much doubted this. The boy had been a misfit at school, and she did not think that he was sociable to get along with anyone. He'd been odd and unpopular as far as she could recall, but decided to merely nod. "Should I tell the elves to set an extra place for dinner?"

"That would be a good idea." He kissed her neck once more. "I'm going to go change."

She looked back at him, and noticed that he was dressed quite peculiarly. He wore no robes, but had a black jacket over his usual cotton poplin shirt, and wrapped at his neck was an odd, long bit of fabric. Narcissa regarded this piece with curiousity, trailing her fingers from the end of the scarf-like thing, at his navel, up to the knot at his throat. He swallowed as her curious touch wandered over his abdomen and chest, and he captured her hand in his own to brush his lips across her knuckles.

"It's called a 'tie'," he informed her. "I needed to pass through Muggle London today to get to a meeting."

"Oh," she quirked a brow. "It's quite... funny."

"Muggles do wear the oddest costumes," he agreed, loosening the garment. "And Severus will be here at seven."

As promised, at precisely seven o'clock, a resounding knock echoed throught the Manor, magically amplified.

"Well, he's punctual, isn't he?" Narcissa commented to Draco as she moved to answer the door.

"An admirable quality," Lucius added, appearing beside her, dressed properly once more.

"Indeed," she sniffed as she opened the door.

She was not entirely sure what to make of the man standing before her. Barely a man at all- he looked to still be in his late teens. He was alarming skinny, a fact that even his plain, baggy robes could not hide, and his thin shoulders were hunched as though he'd spent a few too many hours in the library. His nose was much to large and his hair, while clean, was lank and fell limply around his face. Because she was carefully cataloguing his flaws, it took a moment or two before her gaze moved to meet his. When she did, her brows lifted fractionally, the only indicator of the surprise she felt.

His eyes, entirely black, sparkled with such acuity and intelligence that she was afraid for a heartbeat to speak, worried that she might sound ignorant. She'd never so clearly seen such depth and wisdom set before her, and in such an unusual background! There were dark circles around those brilliant eyes, and his skin was translucently sallow, but she knew immediately that Lucius was right. She already liked and admired Severus Snape, despite the fact he'd not said a word.

"Hello, Severus," Lucius murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching as he watched the two observe the other. "This is my wife, Narcissa."

"Er...welcome!" Narcissa babbled, flushing. "It's lovely to meet you, Severus. This is Draco," she continued quickly, lifting the boy from her hip.

Severus inclined his head slightly. "Hello, Narcissa." His tone was cool and controlled, an indistinct tenor that had little feeling. His eyes flicked to her son. "Hello, Draco."

The boy stared back solemnly for several moments, before burying his face in his mother's shoulder, seemingly overcome with shyness as he peeked back at their visitor through Narcissa's long hair.

"I thought we would eat first," Lucius told Severus, gesturing that he should step inside. Severus nodded in agreement, and followed them into the dining room. He took his seat without a word, and Lucius continued speaking.

"I was at a meeting with the Minister today, and he was... concerned, to say the very least," he announced, looking slightly smug.

"Good," Severus murmured. "He should be."

Food bloomed on their plates, and the three began to eat. Draco, in his highchair, was spooned tibits from an elf.

"However, I believe we have ample time to discuss such dealings. Later. Narcissa," he turned his attention, and Narcissa froze with her fork half way to her mouth.

"Yes?"

"I recall that we did attend school together for a brief amount of time, but I fear we did not know each other well. You are Bellatrix's sister, are you not?"

"Oh, you know Bella? Yes, I am. I hope you're on good terms with her though; most people aren't. She can be... difficult."

His fascinating eyes shone with amusement. "'Difficult'. What an appropriate euphemism. She and Rodolphus make quite the pair."

"Oh, they're impossible! I'd never tell anyone this, but I don't much like Rodolphus. It's all well and good that's she's happy with him, but he seems so unrefined and... and... fearsome!"

As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she jolted in surprise at her own words. She had never told anyone that, and wasn't sure why she'd just done so to a perfect stranger. However, it somehow seemed alright that she had; it felt strangely as though she could tell Severus anything at all and he wouldn't judge her, as though she could empty every one of her secrets into those fathomless eyes and it would be fine. For a split second, she wished that Lucius was not there, so she could tell Severus about their new-found relationship, how happy he was beginning to make her feel- even confess that sometimes she still thought of Mort, and it still hurt, and was that alright?

With a firm mental shake, Narcissa pulled herself back to the present. She was being ridiculous. She didn't know Severus Snape at all!

"Rodolphus is a barbarian," Severus agreed quietly, taking a sip of wine. There was something... she couldn't quite place it. Something almost agamous about him, something that made him seemed removed, detached in a way she couldn't understand. Masculine vices or feminine airs she could comprehend, but the was something elusive about this young man.

"Although, I don't suppose Bella could end up with anyone civilized! You know, when we were little, she would light my dresses on fire and hide my favorite toys. She's a barbarian herself, but I do love her. Dromeda would always clean up Bella's messes, fix all her destructive little upsets."

This time, Narcissa stopped cold. She hadn't spoken of her in years. She didn't exist anymore, not to the Blacks, and Narcissa could not quite believe that she'd mentioned her so carelessly, so easily, in the middle of supper. Abruptly, she shoved her chair back and rose. "I need to..." she couldn't think of an excuse, and exited without another word. Lucius rose to quietly trail behind.

"Why did I say that?" she hissed once they were out of earshot. Her face was hot, and she trembled with mortification. "I'm so sorry Lucius, I must be feeling unwell. I just can't stop talking!"

Much to her horror, Lucius was regarding her with what appeared to be amusement. "Calm yourself, Narcissa. Severus has that effect on people, and he is entirely used to it; people have mentioned far more humiliating things to him, I assure you. He is an extrodinarily gifted Legilimens, and even when he makes no effort, the magic lingers around him. He cannot see your thoughts without effort, but as you have noticed, your thoughts are drawn out anyway. It's unusual, I've never seen it in another individual. And it's not infallible either - now that I've warned you, it should be much easier to control."

"You could've mentioned something a bit earlier!" she snapped.

Lucius shrugged, showing no remorse. "I could have," he agreed. "But I could see how taken with him you were when he walked in, and I was interested."

Narcissa wasn't sure whether or not she should be annoyed. While she mulled it over, Lucius asked mildly, "Shall we returned to our guest now? Or perhaps allow Draco to entertain him a bit longer?"

"Oh!" she gasped."Of course!"

Later that evening, after Severus was gone (and Narcissa had embarassed herself half a dozen more times) Lucius slid into bed beside his sulking wife.

"So... did you dislike Severus, then?"

"No! Not at all! But you weren't the one telling him how you were terrified of kneazles and crups, and how you- you wet the bed until you were five-" her voice broke off, strangled with mortification.

"No. But I don't regret his unusual gift; in fact, it is the reason he is such a close aquaintance."

Narcissa turned to him, eyes wide. "That's awful! Using him so he can get information for you!"

"No," he said quickly, "You misunderstand. His talent was initially the reason we began to speak, I should have said," he corrected. "You see, in my fifth year, he approached me in the library, and asked if I had a spare quill that he could use. Under normal circumstances, even with his gift, I probably would have just given him one and left it at that, but I'd just recieved a particularly viscious owl from my father, implying that my inheirtance relied on my receiving 'O's on each of my upcoming O.W.L's. So instead, I told him that of course I had quills, that my bloody father had all the time in the world to send quills and parchments and scathing letters, and not a spare second to actually be a father." Lucius paused. "I couldn't very well let him walk away after that; I didn't know him, didn't know if he'd be the sort to start rumours. Obviously, I had no choice but to befriend him."

"Is he so terrible then, your father? He always seemed so kind to me."

"My father... is not an intentionally cruel person. He has different expectations for different people, and will not compromise. He is fickle; he is concerned with little and loves less- he never loved my mother or my sisters, despite what he told them. He gives affection freely and I daresay hurt many people- but no. He is not terrible. He merely is who he is.

"He did love someone," Narcissa blurted suddenly. Lucius quirked an eyebrow in curiousity. "A woman, named... oh, what was it? They went to school together. When he left, did your father empty his study?"

"Not entirely."

"I'll show you, then." She hopped out of bed without bothering to grap a robe, and Lucius followed, somewhat warily. "He had a photo album with her picture in it."

She pushed open the door, and glanced around uncertainly. The once warm and lavish study looked bare and unwelcoming; the cauldrons and potions were gone, leaving one corner bare, the Axminister and Moontrimmer had been removed from their cases, leaving lonely plaques behind, the desk was empty and imposing, the astronomical model had vanished, and half the tomes had been stripped from their shelves.

"Over here," she said after a moment, spotting the photo books and hurrying over. "See, it was this one." She flipped it opened, and stopped. Lucius stood behind her, quirking his head in curiousity.

"There are no pictures," he pointed out helpfully. With a huff, she glanced up in irritation.

"Yes, I see that." Quickly, she began to flip through the pages, and saw that not all the photographs were gone- the photographs that showed only the brunette boy and blonde girl were still there, but every single shot of Charlotte were missing.

"He took them with him," Lucius murmured, staring thoughtfully at the empty pages. "I see your point. I suppose..." Lucius exhaled sharply. "I suppose this explains quite a bit. He never truly loved again." He lifted the book from her, and began to slowly turn the pages.

If Narcissa had not been carefully watching him, she would have missed it. However, because of her scrutiny, she saw it: the flash of his eyes in her direction, the probing, curious look, saturated with concern; obviously, his mind had made the connection her's had when she first learned of Charlotte. But this would have to be different; she would not be married to him for decades and still love Mort. She simply would not let it happen.

He had looked back down, and was staring at the blank pages with a furrowed brow. Taking a deep breath, Narcissa pushed the book from his unresisting grasp, and it fell to the ground in flurry of disarray.

"Forget about it," she whispered thickly. "Just forget it." Seemingly on their own accord, her arms wound themselves around his neck, and pulled his lips to hers. He responded immediately, wrapping and arm around her waist and pulling her close. His other hand skated over her waist, sliding up to cradle the heavy curve of her breast. He backed her carefully against the desk, lifting her so she was perched at just the right height to curl her legs around his hips, which she quickly tried to do, only to find the long hem of her nightgown in the way. Eyes shining micheviously and a wicked smirk about his lips, Lucius dropped to his knees before her. With one hand, he slowly began to push the fabric up over her knees, while the other captured her foot and extended her leg. Still watching her expression, he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot beneath her ankle, moving up with soft, biting kisses along her calf. Her dress was up to her waist by now, and, monitoring her face carefully, her hooked her leg over his shoulder. Narcissa closed her eyes and allowed her head to tilt back, biting her lip as she felt his tongue dancing lightly along the inside of her thigh. Her fingers pushed through his hair, and he reached out to tug down her knickers- but never got the chance.

A ringing wail caused Lucius to jerk back, and Narcissa stifled her own moan of dissappointment. Draco was awake, and fairly upset, by the sound of things.

"I'll go," Lucius sighed as he drew away, ducking his head and drawing deep breaths in effort to calm his obviously aroused state. "Give me a moment."

"No, it's alright." Narcissa slid from the desk, pushing her skirt down. "I've got him." She hurried from the study and to the nursery.

"Oh, Draco," she murmured dejectedly. "What is it?"

He was staring up at her unhappily, and reached for something outside the bars of his crib. Unsuccessful, he began to cry again. Narcissa glanced down, and saw that his aimless, sleepy movements has somehow pushed his favorite blanket to the floor. Biting back a sigh of frustration, she plucked the fabric up and handed it to her son.

"There. Better?"

His tears immediately ceased and he curled a fist in the silky material, cuddling a delighted cheek to it. Seeing his charming reaction, Narcissa melted. "Please hold on to it tighter next time, my baby." She leaned over to kiss his forehead as he promptly drifted back to sleep.

Narcissa did not return to the bedroom. There was something just tenuous enough about their relationship that she wasn't sure how to rekindle the moment, and she did not wish to sit in uncomfortable silence. She would at least wait long enough to give Lucius the chance to pretend to be asleep when she returned.

Humming softly, she quietly picked out an outfit for her son to wear the next day, rearranged some trinkets, and sat on the rocking chair, watching Draco's little chest rise and fall peacefully. After about fifteen minutes, she rose and padded down the hallway. When she pushed open the door to the bedroom, Lucius was, in fact, pretending to sleep. But his shoulders were far too rigid, his posture stiff, and a slight frown on his face. But his eyes were closed and he was lying down, and as long as that remained the case, she could act as though he slumbered.

However, when she crawled into bed beside him and dimmed the lights, he shattered her illusion.

"Narcissa?" He rolled over to face her. "Do you remember when you asked for a honeymoon?"

"Yes."

"Did you still have any interest in going on one?"

Grinning into the dark, Narcissa nodded.