Chapter Fifty-Two
Without You
A stray stunning spell crackled against a nearby window, the sound sending Lucius down to his knees, keeping his head low. The Death Eaters and the Order were still fighting outside, multi-coloured lights flashing as the two groups fired spells at each other. They looked fully preoccupied, but Lucius knew that there was no guarantee of how long they'd keep at it if the werewolf never made its way out of the house to start the chase.
Lucius took advantage of his crouched position to dig into his pocket and pull out Remus's wand. The wood was warm and bright and for a moment, its similarity to its owner distracted him—until he heard an enraged roar from behind the basement door, and he dropped the wand to the ground. It rolled up against the small crack under the door and rested there. Ready for Remus, whenever he was set free.
Lucius clenched his jaw and pulled himself upright again before sprinting away, through the kitchen and dining area, up the staircase once more. Once he reached the second floor, he crouched low as he turned and headed toward the door he'd hidden Narcissa behind, unlocking it with a flick of his wand and squeezing inside.
The room was still dark and quiet; the shouts from outside were dimmer, farther off, and Narcissa was still curled up on the ground, fast asleep.
"Thank the heavens," Lucius whispered to himself as he shut the door and charmed it locked again before reaching up to pull off his mask and hood, letting them drop to the floor.
The acrid smoke still hanging in the air struck him immediately, and he wrinkled his nose and covered his mouth with the back of his hand, trying not to be overcome by it.
"I'll open a window," he muttered to himself, as if Narcissa could hear him, slipping his wand into his pocket—noticing how empty it felt, without Remus's there too. The world threatened to tilt on its axis, so Lucius simply gave his head a gentle shake and headed over to the window. He leaned awkwardly over the small, musty bed to peek outside, checking that the window was safe to open.
Figures rushed by on the lawn, and he ducked down, cursing his stupid idea to take his hood off and let the moonlight strike his bright hair—but there was no reaction, just more shouting, and then a triumphant yell from the Northeast, near the front door. A woman's yell. A member of the Order, since no female Death Eaters had joined him on his mission. He grimaced and reached up to turn the window's handle, gently at first and then with as much force as he had to to finally let it crack.
Bitterly cold air rushed in and struck Lucius in the face—but it was fresh, not nearly as smoky as the air in the house, so he took a deep breath in before slinking back over to his wife.
Lucius remained silent as he turned and leaned his back against the bedroom wall and then slid down it until he was sitting beside Narcissa. He stared down at her in silence, reaching out to brush a stray piece of hair off of her forehead.
"It's done," he whispered, wiping his thumb along her cheekbone and then leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. "The worst part, anyway. I won't have to kill—"
The idea had come to him without any conscious effort. I won't have to kill Remus. The realisation slammed into him, nearly taking his breath away. Remus might actually live. And Narcissa and Lucius might, too, so long as the Order didn't make their way into the house.
Lucius glanced out the window, staring up at his view of the clear night sky. The stars flickered distantly, beyond the moon's glow. Orion's Belt.
He wondered if the skies were clear in Prague, too, and then he noticed the thought and winced at himself, at how far ahead he was jumping. He reached his gloved hands up and wiped his eyes, then dragged them along his sweaty nose and wiped at his upper lip.
"One thing at a time," he muttered to himself before twisting and reaching out to Narcissa. He hooked his arms under her again, grunting with the effort as he pulled her upper body up and onto his lap, so that her head could rest gently against his stomach and thigh. She grumbled in her sleep.
"Only have to stay alive for a few hours, my love," he muttered down at her once she was comfortably in place. "Only have to make it to morning, and then we can run."
Narcissa flinched in her sleep, as if looking at something that upset her.
There was a horrible cracking noise outside, and then a series of voices talking over each other, urgent but enthusiastic. They were near the front of the house again, and Lucius could make out the occasional word through the open window: sealed in … Malfoy … Remus … wolf … check the town … hiding … the point …
It was the Order. Lucius sat up, straining to hear more, but the discussion seemed to be getting quieter and faster.
"Then I'll check myself!" a single, loud shout erupted through the relative silence, and the others went quiet, as though waiting for some sort of retaliation from their foes.
None came.
The Death Eaters had run.
"Go," a gravelly voice carried on the wind. "But come back quickly. We'll check the windows."
Lucius knew that voice. Alastor Moody.
And he knew the other voice, too, though it sounded far more mature and fatigued than the last time he'd heard it. Tonks.
He clenched his jaw and fumbled for his wand, working quickly to cast an obscuring spell on the bedroom window, to make it show an empty version of the room. Illusory charms were not his strong suit, but he didn't need it to last for long—just long enough for whoever was planning to go looking to see it and move on. Assuming that Moody wouldn't be able to see right through it with his magical eye.
Tonks was going to check somewhere—the townsite, presumably, based on what he'd overheard. She wouldn't find Remus there, and Lucius knew, without knowing her at all, that meant that she would return to the house and stay until she could investigate its interior herself.
"I told you, you fool," Lucius said out loud, as though Remus might somehow be able to hear him far below, lowering his wand hand and letting it drape over top of Narcissa's waist. "She hasn't given up on you."
Which meant he couldn't, either. He had to be attentive, had to remain on high alert until Narcissa woke up and the sun had risen and he could explain what was happening to her. All he had to do was stay awake and maintain focus on his spells. He could do that. There was much to think about.
But his body was finally coming down from the adrenaline. And Narcissa's breathing was soft and soothing, a familiar lullaby.
He allowed his mind to wander as he looked around the room and listened for any members of the Order to clamber along the roof to peek in the window, or come soaring past on a broom. They seemed to be starting in the lower half of the house, though, so Lucius occupied himself with next steps, intentionally widening his eyes as if that might keep him more conscious.
The brooms were still in the hallway. They'd need the brooms. They'd have to pick somewhere they all knew to travel to, though—what place could they possibly all know? Why hadn't he asked Remus about the next steps in their escape, knowing how weak Remus would be at first?
He shut his eyes, telling himself that it would help him to focus.
How long would Narcissa's Stupefication last for? Why hadn't he resear
...
"Lucius?"
Lucius woke up with a start, his entire body jolting upright, neck snapping to attention. The sudden movement sent a sharp pain through his back and head, and he yelped, reaching a hand up to clutch his forehead.
"Lucius?"
It was Narcissa's voice, and he could feel her now, struggling to get out from under his arm. He slowly peeled his eyes open, watching and clutching his head as Narcissa rolled herself over and then up to a seated position.
"What's going on?" she hissed, raising a hand to her own neck.
"W-we were ambushed," Lucius sputtered, trying to refocus, looking frantically around the room. Everything remained silent and still—but the night sky looked different. The stars were harder to see.
Dread seeped into his bones.
"You fell asleep after an ambush?" Narcissa mumbled, incredulous.
"They knocked you out," Lucius attempted to explain, straightening himself out, grimacing at his body's protestation. "I couldn't wake you up, so I barricaded us in here—"
"Barricaded us in here?" Narcissa pulled a face, scrunching up her nose. "Against the Order of the Phoenix? You?"
"Thank you for your confidence," Lucius grimaced back, and he was about to slide his wand into his pocket when he noticed that his hand was empty. He glanced down, seeping dread turning into abject terror at the prospect of losing it—but then he saw the thing, laying on the floor between him and his wife. He'd dropped it.
He reached out to get it, and Narcissa watched in silence, lips parted.
"You dropped your wand?" she whispered, more urgent now, starting to pat herself down as she looked for her own wand. "Are they still here?"
"I don't know," Lucius admitted, glancing at the door. "I didn't plan to fall asleep—"
"I surely fucking hope you didn't," Narcissa snarled, and then she was pulling herself into a low crouch, clearly aware of the window. "We have to get out of here, Lucius."
"We will," Lucius muttered, "we just have to wait until morning."
"Wait until morning?" she countered, bewildered. "Are you mad? Did they wipe your memory? The Dark Lord will kill our son if you let the others die, Lucius—"
"I didn't!" Lucius interrupted, keeping his own to a frantic whisper. "They got outside, we didn't!"
"Outside? They didn't Disapparate entirely?"
"I don't know, Narcissa, I didn't watch it happen—"
Narcissa was staring at him as though she might be able to glare a straight answer out of her husband—and then something clicked in her mind, and her eyes widened, and she leaned away from Lucius. He stopped speaking.
"Y—Lucius, you had your wand out, in the hallway…"
"And what?" Lucius asked, pulling away, trying to look as affronted as he could even as he felt cold acid beginning to tingle in his chest and throat. "I jinxed you?"
"Did you?" Narcissa asked, her eyes starting to dim.
"Of course not," Lucius snapped, "don't be foolish—"
"Lucius, I swear in Hecate's name—"
"There's nothing to swear! I didn't hurt you!" he pushed, offering a half truth. "You're safe!"
"Am I?" Narcissa asked, her voice growing darker, too. "Where is the werewolf, Lucius?"
Lucius froze, glanced at the window, and then at the door.
It was too quiet outside.
"Lucius!" Narcissa hissed.
Lucius stared at his wife for a moment, noting the way her body had stilled and her expression had faded. It was not the look of a woman losing her mind, but rather one regaining control, becoming overtaken by an icy fury. He was about to lose her.
"The basement," Lucius answered, slow and steady. "The basement."
"What is he doing in the basement, exactly?"
"He'll be there until the change is over," Lucius replied.
"And then?"
"And then—"
CRASH!
Lucius and Narcissa both went silent, eyes snapping to the bedroom door, and the source of the sound beyond it.
Another crash, this time sending trembling vibrations through the walls of the house, so that the door and window rattled in their frames. Narcissa dragged her eyes away from the entrance to look at Lucius, and he slowly met her gaze, though his mind was downstairs, scrambling to figure out what was happening.
Neither of them spoke—but the newcomers did.
"You alright, Tonks?"
Moody's voice, sounding like it was coming from downstairs, near the front door.
Lucius's memory flooded back to him, reminding him of the witch's departure before he'd fallen asleep. Clearly, she'd gotten tired of waiting—but they shouldn't have been able to make their way inside, no matter how determined she was.
But he had fallen asleep.
His throat tightened and his blood began to rush in his ears, making him deaf to Tonks's quiet response—but not to her incantation as she sent out her Patronus.
"I have to get to him before they do," Lucius muttered, lifting his wand to drop the Apparition magic so that he could get downstairs, hoping against all hope that he was wrong about what had happened—but he felt nothing. There was no spell to lower. He blinked, staring at his wand.
He had fallen asleep.
"Before they do?" Narcissa whispered, so quiet he could barely hear her. "This is our chance, Lucius—we can leave—"
"No," Lucius shook his head, scrambling to his feet, preparing to Disapparate. "No, we have to get to him—"
"We?"
"He's going to help us, Narcissa," Lucius replied, clutching his wand. "Don't worry, I have a plan, just stay here for a moment—"
"A plan?" Narcissa snarled, lunging out to grab at Lucius's hand and stop him from disappearing. "If any of this was your plan, Lucius Malfoy… A plan to what?"
"Escape!" Lucius hissed, grabbing Narcissa by the shoulders and staring straight at her. "Rescue Draco! Start a new life!"
Narcissa stared at him for several seconds without blinking before swallowing and glancing at the door behind Lucius.
"Why, Lucius?"
"To save you."
"Me? Or him?"
"All of us."
"Us."
"You. Of course you. Always you. I don't want to live without you."
"If that's true, Lucius," Narcissa breathed, reaching her hands up and placing them on Lucius's forearms, "then we need to leave. They're here—"
"He's in the basement!" Tonks's voice cut through the relative silence, coming from somewhere on the main floor. "Clear the floor above us!"
"Lucius—"
"Cissy, please, I can't leave him, not after everything I've done—"
"It's him or me, Lucius," Narcissa said, digging her fingernails in. "Choose. Now."
Lucius glanced over his shoulder to the door, mind racing as he considered the possibilities—
The door burst open, and Lucius caught only the slightest flicker of the outline of a witch he would later guess to be Molly Weasley standing in the doorway before Narcissa wrapped her arms around Lucius and Disapparated.