Narcissa stood by the barred window, staring blankly out into the sea beyond, wrapping herself in a lonely hug. A chilly breeze gently stirred the free-floating strands that had escaped her white-blonde braid.
Lucius slipped up behind her and slid his arms around her. He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms to warm her, and she leaned back comfortably into his embrace. It wasn't truly cold yet; autumn was just barely beginning to arrive.
"They're late," she said listlessly.
"They'll be here," he reassured, softly kissing her neck.
Narcissa pulled away and Lucius let her, willing to give her as much space as he could. But she didn't drift far from him, just a couple of steps so she could finger the petal of a potted daffodil on the window ledge.
Lucius learned early on in their marriage that Narcisa loved flowers—flora in general, honestly. She loved the process of growing a beautiful blossom or unique vine from a tiny seed, and she had a gift for it. Her Herbology professor had praised her talent and effort, encouraging her to pursue a career in the field, but Narcissa had demurred, choosing to be a traditional Pureblood wife instead.
Still, Narcissa loved gardening. Whenever she was stressed or in need of a distraction, she would disappear to the Manor's greenhouses, grounded by the physicality of doing something with her hands. The year that Draco left for Hogwarts, she had spent more time in the greenhouses than in the Manor, with soil under her manicured fingernails and dirt in her hairline.
She had missed the gardening after they were sentenced to Azkaban, nearly driving herself crazy from the boredom. After a year of good behavior and a sizeable bribe, the guards had allowed Narcissa one flower, and her collection of plants had been slowly growing ever since. There was now a nice variety in florals, although they were all undeniably Muggle and mundane, lest the Malfoys use them in some potion. Still, the flowers added a little bit of color and life to the otherwise dreary cell.
Finally, Draco rounded the corner, a beautiful brunette woman on his arm. She was his wife of four years, Astoria Greengrass, who thankfully a Pureblood, though not one with the same strict purist beliefs as the Malfoy family. Narcissa was more tolerant of her than Lucius, since she just wanted to see her son happy, while he still clung to an ideology that he had been taught since childhood.
But Lucius could handle spending time with Astoria, if only it meant he could watch Narcissa light up when she saw Draco.
There were many pretty flowers in their cell. Narcissa, his pale beloved, still outshone them all.