And there's no remedy for memory//MALFOY MANOR

[NARCISSA VIRGA BLACK]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] Every time I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise Narcissa Black had watched as Lucius left her alone in the rather large bedroom. The door had shut with a resounding click and she had allowed herself to fall back onto the cloud of a bed with soft thump. She buried her nose into the pillows and sighed, trying to recall all the details of the day and make sense of them. Lucius Malfoy, but not the one she truly knew, had collected her. She had really married him, loved him, grown older, and had a son. A picture of them resided on the bedside table and the silly, bedraggled tie that he’d wrapped around their hands in a makeshift handfast that one autumn afternoon had been kept under a pillow. She sighed, pulling said pillow against her chest and curling up on the bed. The tie in question was still wrapped around her hand, much like a security blanket and she brought it to her nose to inhale. The mixture of his musky cologne and her signature strawberry scent was as familiar as her own palm. She sighed softly, closing here eyes. Stay out of sight, request things of the elf if she needed them. That was what Lucius had instructed of her while he went to meet with the Minister. She wondered just what this meeting was for, doubting very much it was about the particular bit of news that had been sprung on him today. Certainly he hadn’t had time to arrange such a meeting that quickly. However, Lucius’ will knew no real boundaries and if had wanted one it was unlikely that he would be completely denied the request. It must have been about that other scandal, the one he’d mentioned in the Ministry. The one she shouldn’t be concerned over. No doubt there was some sort of coup taking place and they were trying to put a more liberal Minister in position, or at least in important positions. The old families resisted change, especially when they had a Minister with whom they shared certain…ideals. That seemed to be a reasonable assumption. When the elf appeared, Narcissa sat up and gazed upon the thing. It wore the same pillow-case like rag all elves wore, with the Malfoy family crest emblazoned in one corner. She was not truly a fan of elves, a peculiarity she had picked up from her mother. Druella had always had a personal maid, not an elf, that dealt with all matters related to clothes and grooming. She had even preferred to have a hired woman cook the family meals (though that was an impossible feat for parties and gatherings) for fear that the creatures would contaminate the food. This elf, Bobbin, she believed Lucius had said, attempted to set her at ease with preparations for dinner. The thing recalled ordinary meals that the family enjoyed and was even able to offer details about what the family had been eating since the Mistress had disappeared. It seemed liquor was a popular dinner these past few days for the elder Master. Narcissa sighed and wrote down her instructions for dinner, down to which wines would be available for each course. The elf went on his (her?) way with strict orders that dinner should be on the table exactly one half-an-hour after Lucius arrived back home. That, she assumed, would give him time to explain to their son (dear, sweet Merlin, how odd that sounded) the basics, surely. After the meals she had spent in the Ministry, she did not feel eager to eat alone in a bedroom. And not this bedroom either, she mentally bemoaned, once again returning to the softness of the bed. Perhaps Lucius could be convinced to sleep in another room due to her prisoner-weary bones. She laughed at the idea. Lucius would do no such thing, especially this version. In the limited time they’d shard, he’d already blown hot and cold so many times Narcissa had lost count. He was struggling, she was sure, with defining just who they were to each other. The same problem was weighing on Narcissa as well. This was Lucius, wasn’t it? Older, yes. More sophisticated? Yes. But the man was familiar in a way that it made her body ache. If she closed her eyes and pressed her face back into the crux of his neck, she was sure she could not tell the difference. She sighed, letting her eyes slip closed. She had intended on snooping, despite her promises. Surely there were letters here, images hidden in a poorly locked drawer. She had kept diaries off and on, but always kept the plentiful journals with only a few pages filled in. She really had wanted to look for signs of her boy, her son. But the day weight heavily on the young girl and the bed was so comfortable. Perhaps she could close her eyes for just a moment and snoop when she had rested them for a few seconds. She placed her head up the pillow, bringing the tie to her face and inhaling. She had slept with the damned thing each night she was away from Lucius which, when they could manage, was not very often. Despite her iron will to remain as pure as she could manage, there was something intoxicatingly calming about sleeping with a man’s arm about her hips. And by man, she solely had meant Lucius. Her eyes slipped closed slowly and, by her arm’s own will, she pulled the bedding from under herself to wrap it around her shoulders. The sheets felt so soft against her skin, she wondered where they came from and their thread count and perhaps she should- but before she could finish her stream of thoughts, Narcissa was fast asleep. words: 958 - tags: Lucius - outfit:-----.

[fid3ns]

It had been nine days since his mother disappeared. From day one, Draco figured someone had done it in order to hold her for ransom, as there were plenty of people who were envious of his family's wealth, but as time passed, they didn't receive any confirmation in regards to his theory. Then, out of nowhere, his father told him that his mother had been found by the Ministry and that he was going to pick her up.

”Stay in your room until I return for you,” Lucius ordered. “Understood?” Draco shifted uncomfortably and nodded without a word. “If you want anything, have one of the elves fetch it for you,” he added as he turned and left.

When Draco heard footsteps outside his door, he jumped up off his bed and prepared for the door to open. However, the footsteps quickly faded, and he frowned. He placed his ear against the dark wood, straining to hear his father's lowered voice. There was a click of a door opening, one he recognized as the door to his parents' room, some words exchanged over a period of time, and another click of the door. Hearing the footsteps approaching again, he jumped back from the door.

The sound faded away, and the house fell silent again. He waited a couple minutes, lost in his thoughts. That had definitely been his father, and he had told him that he was picking up his mother. So why wouldn't he come get him when they returned? And why would he leave that soon after? Even if he didn't care much for her babying, Draco missed his mother dearly; this, he decided, was reason enough to go against his father's orders.

He peered into the hall. With no elves in sight and no one to tattle to his father, he rushed to his parents' room, throwing the door open in his excitement. “Mum,” he exclaimed. He quickly caught himself.

Of course it would be easy to mistake the woman on the bed as his mother. She had the same pale blonde hair and porcelain skin, but she was obviously much younger than her. In fact, she looked to be only a bit older than himself, and very attractive, if he said so himself. But this woman, this girl, was in his parents' room, in their bed. And his father had just left the room, which meant he knew she was there. Draco stammered as his mind tried desperately to fit the pieces together.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” he demanded. “And why are you in here?” He looked at the door and pointed toward it, looking back at her. “Are-are you sleeping with my father?” Anger and frustration welled up inside him. “Who do you think you are? My mother hasn't even been gone for two weeks and you're already trying to replace her? You... You...” His voice faltered, and he clenched his jaw, hands balling into fists. “It won't happen.”

[NARCISSA VIRGA BLACK]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] Every time I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise When one is woken from a slumber, especially one they have just succumb to, there is an air of terror and anxiety. Not quite the falling-from-the-sky terror Narcissa also periodically experienced when on her way to deep sleep, but a worry that something was amiss. And there certainly was something amiss. While Narcissa had not intended on falling asleep, she had also assumed that the next person to step through those doors would be Lucius. The boy before her could not yet have been fifteen, despite his lanky stature. She blinked furiously, trying to shake the sleep that had so quickly cloaked her from her eyes. She swallowed, sitting up and rustling her curls. One sleeve had fallen from her shoulder and she reached to adjust it, her eyes never leaving the boy before her. It didn’t take long, once she was properly away, for her to realize who this must be. If she’d been perfectly conscious, the exclamation of ‘Mum’ would have been more than adequate evidence, but instead she had to use her deductive skills and the rather important detail that she referred to this bad as his Father’s. Well then. “It’s not really what this looks like, oh Merlin.” Narcissa fumbled to get out of the bed and smooth her skirts out, her eyes never leaving his pale, passing-storm grey eyes. She felt her mouth grow dry and had to struggle to explain herself. If there was something Narcissa was unfamiliar with, it was explaining herself. She repeatedly open and shut her mouth several times before she could find adequate words that would not make her seem completely and utterly insane. Phrases such as “I am your mother” were immediately deemed inappropriate and likely to wind her up with a twenty-four hour assessment at Saint Mungo’s. She bit her lip before perching herself ever-so-slightly on the edge of the bed. “I’m really not supposed to explain myself until Lucius returns. He said you’d throw a fit and I can’t even imagine how upsetting this must be. I’m not his mistress, I promise. You poor thing I can’t... ” She breathed finally, her words coming out in a far-too-quick jumble. “You are Draco, aren’t you? You have to be, you have his eyes. You’re slimmer, yes, but I bet you fly much better.” Narcissa twisted her hands in her lap, chewing on her lip as she thought through the best way to approach the rest of this whole conversation. All she really wanted to do was take the boy in her arms and hug him. The sudden realization that her son was standing before her and rather distraught created an uncomfortable ache in her stomach. Poor boy. She finally took a breath, looked around, watched her toes for a solid minute, and then returned her eyes to his. “My name is Narcissa Black. And…and,” She pushed a puff of air from her lungs. “And your father is very angry with the Ministry right now.” Her eyes moved to the small picture on the bedside table before she decided that waving that in this boy’s face would not help anything. words: 513 - tags: Lucius - outfit: ---- .

[fid3ns]

Draco watched as the woman sat up, his scowl softening a little as he noticed her slender frame. And that bare shoulder... He quickly shook it off. She was beautiful, yes, but she was interfering with his family. He couldn't let her charm him. The fumbling and the nervous lip biting didn't help his resolve, though.

“My father? He said I'd throw a fit?” He scoffed. “Of course I would; he's bringing another woman into our home, into his room – their room. And he seems to have already told you all about me.”

His stomach knotted up. How could this even happen? They had seemed so happy together, and Lucius had seemed more on edge about things ever since she disappeared. But maybe that had been a cover-up, to disguise him actually getting rid of her for this-- No. He couldn't think like that.

When Narcissa stated her name, Draco's scowl deepened. He snatched the front of her dress and twisted it in his hand. He slid his wand from his pocket, pressing the tip of it under her chin.

“How DARE you use that name!” he yelled, his face turning pink. “Lying to cover up your identity is one thing, but using her maiden name?” He pushed the wand into her skin a little harder. “You have nerve.” He saw her gaze shift to the picture beside the bed and released her dress. He snatched up the gold frame.

The picture was probably at least four years old. He watched as a younger version of himself smiled up at his mother and father. His mother, of course, returned the gesture with a soft smile, but Lucius nudged him and made him look forward again, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. Even though it had been awhile, Draco remembered the day this had been taken; Narcissa had insisted they have a new picture done in order to commemorate him starting school at Hogwarts.

He watched as she smiled back at him again, and he froze. The woman in the picture was obviously his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, but the woman standing before him looked too much like his mother would have if she were younger. And if she was telling the truth, her name was also Narcissa. But Draco had studied his family's history, and he was sure that his mother was the only Black who ever carried the name Narcissa; he was also sure she was the only Black – or the only one that mattered – that didn't have dark hair.

The pressure of his wand against her skin lessened, and he stammered, scanning her face for an answer. Because he desperately needed an answer.

[NARCISSA VIRGA BLACK]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] Every time I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise “It is not like that, I swear on Morgan le Fay’s grave that it’s not-” But Narcissa was unable to finished her protestations before a wand was held to her neck. She gasped and squeaked at his grip, closing her eyes and trying to pull her face as far away from him as she could. She leaned back, one fist bunching up on the duvet and the other on his shirt to keep from falling over. This boy, who was only fourteen if she remembered Lucius’ words correctly, was already this protective and this tall and forceful. She whimpered, the tip of his wand pressing against her windpipe. Lucius had been right, he was throwing a fit. She should have waited, let her husband explain this all. Lucius would have been able to smooth this over more, present proper facts that would make sense. Narcissa had been unable to let the boy think she was a mistress though, breaking up the Malfoy family. Her soul had been overwhelmed by the idea that the boy could think anyone would destroy his family- or that Lucius could possibly stray. The Lucius she knew and the same one who collected her earlier in the day would not have fought for her if he strayed. Her own mother had been accused of straying more than once during Narcissa’s childhood and it had ripped her home asunder. She swallowed, whimpering again. The idea of wishing for her wand was in the back of her mind, but what would she do? She could not raise or threaten the boy before her. He would have snatched the wand away, anyway, believing she had pilfered it from his mother. She felt a lump of pain in her throat, the tip of her nose and lower eyelids starting to sting. “I’m not lying,” she gasped, refusing to open her eyes even as she felt small tears forming in their crooks and beginning to roll down her cheeks. She shook her head profusely, only opening her eyes when she felt the grip on her dress soften and then release. Narcissa wanted nothing more than to curl back up in bed and awake in her own time, in her own life. She had been through too much today, too many peaks and valleys as well as too many accusations about her own identity. There was nothing worse than being denied your own identity (though having loved ones reject you certainly came very close). She choked and coughed, blinking open her eyes and moving to wipe them a little. Her eyes follow Draco’s the small portrait on the bedside table, and the tears ran anew again. “I’m not…I’m not another woman, she gasped when the wand was suddenly light against her skin. She slowly turned her head to Draco’s, shaking it as she met his eyes. “Please, just wait for your father. Or your mother’s school photos, I can prove to you…” She sniffled, trying to wipe away the tears as they continued to come. For all the pain she received at the rejection of her identity, the feelings of loss and self doubt, it occurred to her as well just what the boy before her must have been feeling. Guilt and shame flooded into her face. “Please, trust me for one moment. I don’t want to see you hurting.” words: 559 - tags: Lucius - outfit:-----.

[fid3ns]

He blinked slowly as he watched her try to hide her tears. Draco had only meant to frighten her into giving him answers, not make her cry. Seeing her this upset made him feel sick to his stomach, the familiar twist he got when he saw his mother cry, and the guilt he felt when it was his fault began to overwhelm him. He opened his mouth to apologize, but he quickly thought better of it.

Instead, he lowered his wand, even pocketing it. His mind was yelling at him not to trust her so easily, but his heart said otherwise. He couldn't imagine his father wanting someone other than Narcissa. He didn't outwardly show it much, but it was obvious he loved her. The only reason he had even suggested it was because that had been the only thing that even made any sense.

He ran his fingers through his pale blond hair, looking her over. She did have the same facial features as his mother – the same nose, the same eyes, the same lips. In fact, when he thought about it, she did look an awful lot like the Narcissa in the pictures from when his parents married. He closed his eyes tight, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He paced in front of her for a minute, racking his brain for any sort of inkling on what could have done something like this. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized he had no idea what actually happened. Had someone, or something, made her younger? And why? Was he even right in assuming that she had been made younger and not something else? He released a sight of frustration and plopped down onto the bed next to her.

“None of this makes any sense,” he muttered, burying his head in his hands.

[LUCIUS PHINEAS MALFOY]

Lucius, possibly, had the most impeccable timing of any wizard he had ever known. If only he ran into things that would improve his mood rather than squash it. I had been such a lovely time he spent at the Ministry – he had left with a sense of achievement about him, with engagement ring in one hand and papers for Auror Flincher’s suspension in the other. Things had, for the most part, gone better than they ever really could have, considering the horrid circumstances he had been thrust into all at once. Lucius even considered how he was going to explain all of the goings on to Draco, in such a fashion that perhaps the boy wouldn’t have put up such a fuss and understood, implicitly, that as any Malfoy would he would make the best of what was given to him.

It honestly wasn’t until he heard the screaming from the hallway that he realized he had been a bit… lofty. Lucius could make out the high pitched distress noises coming from Narcissa, as well as the other high pitched noises that came from who could only have been his son. Lucius could feel his eyes roll immediately as he made his way up the hall mentally preparing himself for the worst. If both of them were emotional, he wouldn’t know how to force a calm. He could at least hope that they would see reason.

When he reached the door, he noticed their positions immediately – Narcissa hunched over, teary eyed and panicked, as Draco paced back and forth across the room in an obvious state of confusion. Lucius was immediately pleased with himself for not having brought Draco with him to collect Narcissa from the Ministry. There was no doubt in his mind that Draco would have made a veritable mess of things with his scene making. He hadn’t the ability to cloak his confusion, even though he had right to it, as Lucius was so easily able to do. Though, he supposed he was being a little harsh on the boy. But it was so hard to not to, considering how pampered he was.

Lucius leaned leisurely against the threshold of the suite, crossing his arms as he stared down at both of them with obvious disapproval. “Honestly,” he said in a loud, authoritative voice, hoping it was enough to cause them both to take pause and bring their attention toward him. “This is so unbecoming of both of you. I’m almost embarrassed for you.” Lucius then stepped forward, his cloak billowing about him as he rested his walking stick against the ground.

“I believe I made it perfectly clear to both of you that I wanted you to stay in your respective places until I returned.” His pale grey eyes fell on both of them, giving accusatory looks. “Obviously neither of you could do that, could you? So, tell me. Which one of you disobeyed my orders?”

[NARCISSA VIRGA BLACK]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] Every time I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise Narcissa hadn’t expected the young boy to drop his wand so quickly. She’d expected more of an interrogation, more questions about just why he should trust her. She would have asked more questions, certainly, if she was in his shoes. She would have been concerned and confused, but perhaps the sheer longing for Mother would have left her more dazed by her confusion. She watched his movements carefully, fearing for another outburst (because, surely, this wasn’t the end of his emotions). She wanted to smile as she watched him pinch his nose because, even through her tears, she could see the physical movements he’d inherited from his father. As he sat next to her, Narcissa swallowed. What did one do in this situation? She placed her hand on his shoulder, her thumb rubbing the taught muscles beneath his clothing. She licked her lips and swallowed, leaning foreword slightly. She wanted to say a million things, try to comfort him (and in that way, convince him and comfort herself). She opened her mouth to apologize, but instantly shrunk back as she realized they were not the only two in the room. Her eyes flew to Lucius instantly, her hand dropping away. She immediately reached up to rub away her tears, though her eyes were still wet and red. If the look he gave them both was not enough to turn her face red in mortification (though it was already red, so the shame could only have turned her face into an unbecoming purple of some sort), than surely the words that tumbled from Lucius Malfoy’s mouth were enough to do so. This was not the sort of behavior Narcissa regularly indulged in, having learned long ago that real tears would get her nothing (though, of course, blinking away a single tear and chewing her lip were enough to garner her any present by a particular father figure). She twisted her hands, unable to keep eye contact with the man before her. He had given specific orders, she remembered, and then realized that Draco must have been given similar ones. Her eyes shifted to the boy next to her, one canine catching her lip and digging into the plump pinkness. He had disobeyed his father and that, among proper families, was no small err. So without even thinking, without wondering about what she was doing or what consequences she was creating for herself, Narcissa lied. “I did,” She murmured, still unable to look into Lucius’ eyes. Hopefully her previous shame would conceal one of the few tells she had when it came to lying. “I…I was curious so I went to find him. I brought him back here to…to try to prove to him who I was. It was my doing and my fault,” She added, trying to stress the word ‘my’ whenever possible. She looked up, her eyes fixing on his chest instead of his eyes. words: 485 - tags: Lucius - outfit:-----.

[fid3ns]

Draco's body relaxed the instant Narcissa's hand touched his shoulder. He slowly breathed out, releasing his head from his hands and letting it droop. Although he still wasn't sure that this woman was who she said she was – and quite frankly he was too confused to argue about it any longer – her touch was very comforting. And he wasn't going to argue with being comforted right now.

Lucius' voice rang loudly in the room. Draco's widening eyes darted to meet his father's. He sat up straight and opened his mouth to explain himself, but Narcissa answered before he could say anything. He managed to keep his composure through her lie, even though he was trying hard not to furrow his brow at her.

He knew he had disobeyed a direct order from his father. He knew that he was going to find out, too, but he still made the decision to leave his room. He had accepted his punishment. Why was she trying to protect him from that? Surely she had no reason to do so.

And more importantly, why was he feeling guilty for letting her do it? When it came time for getting into trouble, he was always quick to allow someone else to take the blame without a second thought. But this time was different. Not liking the feeling, he tried to push away his guilt to deal with it later.

“Father,” he piped up, trying not to leave much pause after Narcissa's reply so he could at least try to minimize the trouble she would experience. He looked at the woman and then back at his father. “What's going on? I thought you said you were bringing Mum home.”

[LUCIUS PHINEAS MALFOY]

Their reactions, of course, were amusing, but surprised him. Narcissa scrambled immediately to take blame for what had occurred, while Draco did nothing to stop her. He had seen this scene before, hadn’t he? This wasn’t the first time that Narcissa took blame for something that honestly wasn’t her fault. Of course he knew she was lying. Cissa was a horrid liar and certainly Lucius knew her tells. Years of marriage had seen to learning the subtle nuances of her speech, mannerisms and actions. He had the advantage of this knowledge, which she hopefully had realized. Lucius hated lies, especially unnecessary ones. With a sigh, he stepped forward, taking snake end of his walking stick and pressing it under Narcissa’s chin, lifting it so he would look her into the eyes.

“I don’t take kindly to dishonesty,” he told her coolly, evenly. “Your protection is admirable, but unnecessary. What purpose would there be in punishing either of you? Really, Narcissa, I would expect you to know better.” He supposed it was easy to feel intimidated by him. He enjoyed that little bit of power he held over people, even when he had no intention of doing anything to them. He rather enjoyed the amount of fluster that befell her features when she realized that he was annoyed, so much so that she would scramble to the defense against an assault that wasn’t even there. She was chastised and yet he had no intention of doing so. It was almost intoxicating to watch how much he affected her in this manner… But he could not focus on that for long. There were other matters that needed to be attended to.

He glanced toward Draco, lowering his walking stick as he raised an eyebrow at him. “You, Draco,” he began, a slight disappointment in his voice. “I would expect you to know your mother when you see her. Honestly, we've shown you pictures before. Have I ever lied to you, boy? I said I would go to the Ministry to collect your mother, and I did. However, under circumstances that could not be controlled by me, they returned her in a way that we were not expecting. Of course, the Ministry will be hearing of this, but I would hope you would think better of me, Draco.” He huffed, waving a dismissive hand.

“Taking a Mistress… What absolute nonsense.”

[NARCISSA VIRGA BLACK]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] Every time I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise Narcissa let Lucius prod her eyes upwards, the feeling of metal against her jaw doing something to her. It should have been cold, she was expecting cold as he moved. He’d been holding it out of sheer protection of his wand and his leather-clad hands had warmed the unyielding material. What an analogy this all made, his coolness and warmth all wrapped into one. At least, for her Lucius. But were they the same? Her thoughts on this line were already too muddled for her own good. Where did this Lucius differ from his younger self? He held himself different, that was true, but not in an unfamiliar way. His endearing cockiness had grown into a mature self-confidence, but both of those intertwined traits stirred that something in her. This was not the place to be fathoming what the something was. So instead, she finished wiping at her face, running her pinky beneath her lower eyelashes and swept the last of her tears away. She was still disheartened, but there were other things to feel at this very moment. Chastened, yes. Protective, yes. There was an inordinately large part of her that wished for some feeling of belonging, especially after the conversation she and Draco had shared earlier. The way Lucius talked seemed to suggest little in opposition of her belonging. She was mother and wife in a way that was unexpected. That and Lucius’ scoffing comment over his possible mistresses made her heart soar with delight. But there was still that odd little niggling urge to defend the boy before her. She was not quite sure to what extent motherly instinct existed, but surely that couldn’t be it. He was just a boy, after all, compared to mature seventeen years. Surely that was what fueled this protectiveness. “I’m sorry, I should have waited for you. You’ve always been much more levelheaded and tactful than I. He could not have imagined that this was possible, Lucius. You were surprised, to say the least, as well. He was just seeking to protect his mother-me, and his-your-our family,” She murmured imploringly, trying her best to smooth over that choice tone he’d adopted. It was a give and take of her faults, compliments to him, and meager defenses. Her eyes shot to Draco and she chewed on her lip. How would he react to this news? Narcissa tacked on another, well-used and often received-well method just in case: distraction. “I arranged for your favorite dinner tonight…provided it’s the same as in your youth. It should be ready rather soon and I know you’ll want to freshen up.” In times like these, in her time, she would offer to assist with washing up. She’d produce fresh clothing, attempt to do his cravat or tie, and even (on the rare occasion indeed) follow him into the bath or shower. But this was not her time, she had to remind herself, and they were not each others’ usual mates. And their son was here and needing reassurance of some sort. words: 504 - tags: Lucius - outfit:-----.

[fid3ns]

Draco's eyes lowered from his father's for a moment when he heard the clear disappointment in his voice. He listened quietly, trying to soak it all in. This was, in fact, his mother. But what was she doing at the Ministry? And from the way his father sounded, it was somehow their fault. It didn't make much sense, but he knew he could trust him. The comment about the mistress made his face turn a little pink from embarrassment.

“I didn't--” he started, but he fell silent. Narcissa piping up right after that helped to take some of the attention off of himself, which was a nice relief, and hearing that even his father had been surprised when he found out made it even better.

Draco stood and straightened his clothing. He felt awful for what he had said to the wom-- his mother. Feeling bad for what he said or did was not something he did lightly, either. The situation was strange, certainly, but it was no excuse to treat her that way. And, reflecting, he realized just how illogical his thought process was, and how rushed he was to blame someone – anyone – for her disappearance. He waited for a pause in the conversation to interject. He took a deep breath.

“I'm sorry,” he said quickly. He looked to Lucius. “I didn't mean to doubt you, Father.” He turned to Narcissa and swallowed. “... Mum.” He raised a hand and placed it gently on her shoulder, partly to show his sincerity and partly to make sure she was real. He tried to convey his apology to her without actually saying it; it was hard enough to admit he was wrong, let alone blurt it out for everyone to hear. But for her, he figured he could stomach it.

“I-I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I didn't know it was you. It was... wrong of me. I'm sorry.”

[LUCIUS PHINEAS MALFOY]

She was groveling, appealing to some authority in him in order to garner his favor… and he liked it. There was a certain power he held over the smaller Narcissa that he hadn’t with his own. Of course, Lucius had always been dominant with his Narcissa, but it was different with this one. There was a holistic sort of domination he could feel – from his experience, his personality, his maturity and even the physical aspects of him. Oh yes, it most certainly appealed. It was almost hard to focus on the topic at hand, while he watched her intoxicating movements and listened to the timid nature of her voice. Luckily, Lucius was a savant with self-restraint, and peeled his attention to the boy. He seemed apologetic, when Lucius would have expected more resistance. Calling Narcissa by the proper title seemed like a strained attempt on Draco’s part, and Lucius had to almost hold back a chuckle.

“That’s very sweet of you, Draco,” he commented blithely, running his thumb over the snake head of his walking stick. “And here I thought that you would be much more difficult to convince. Though it is wise of you to not doubt me, even if it is a rather large pill to swallow.” Lucius wasn’t exactly trying to be insulting; it wasn’t his intention at all. However, he had his own family to consider. There were no replacements. How could he simply take in another woman from the streets, plop her into his home and force the boy to begin to love and care for her as if he were his own mother? Even Lucius felt the same way, and while he had certain lusts and honest affection for the poor girl, he certainly didn’t love her. Cordiality and politeness were expected to be shown to their visitor, but it would certainly take a while for them both to consider her as some form of auxiliary… How in the world would the woman he married feel if she returned home out of the blue, to find that some other person had taken her place, even if it were her own self?

He didn’t want to think of it.

“I would have expected you to notice from the quaint fashion of how she defends you to tip you off,” he told the boy carefully. “I suppose it is natural instinct for her. Perhaps in time she’ll be able to form others and she will seem more familiar.” He walked forward, leisurely taking off his cloak and plopped it next to her on the bed. Next went the gloves, and soon after he was loosening the top buttons on his robes. He paid no particular attention to either of them in the meanwhile, even as he began to speak again. “All those nice little habits that you enjoyed…” He glanced sidelong at them, a mischievous glint in his eye. He supposed that Draco regretted calling her mum now, and of course Lucius would have made it worse. “…Snuggle dragon.”

He was so cruel.

[NARCISSA VIRGA BLACK]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] Every time I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise Narcissa did not quite know how to react to Lucius right away, so instead she turned to the boy next to her. Her eyes scanned his face, trying to register what emotions were passing through the boy’s face. She still worried over his feelings on the matter, but she could not completely soothe them no matter how much she ruminated on the subject. She also doubted, very much, that even vocalizing her concerns would leave her helpless against his turmoil. She placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb along the pale, bony knuckles he had. He was already tall and gangly and judging by his age, she could not imagine the boy after his final growth spurt. She looked up to meet Draco’s eyes, her head barely waist-height with him at his position. He had inherited his father’s height, surely, or her own mother’s height had skipped a generation. Her mother had been taller than her father and carried herself with the regality of a queen. Lucius and Druella had always had that in common and now the boy did too. She continued to rub his hand, appalled at the coolness of his flesh. She began rubbing a little more aggressively, struggling to promote blood flow to the digits. Either his skin responded to his emotions or he’d inherited cold features from her. With each thought she was more aggressively hit with the realization she was a mother- both in her future and by the boy if he needed her now. “It’s alright, you did not know it was me,” She paused to wipe the dried tears from her face. “You were trying to defend your mother-me- your mother. It was admirable, despite the hurt.” She added, as softly as she could manage so that the boy would hear and not her husband, “And you do not need to call me that if you do not wish.” She moved away as Lucius spoke, blushing bright red at his comments. She did not know if the shame appeared because of the nickname, though she had the smallest urge to smile at the delightfulness of it, or because of the rest of the words that spilled forth from the man’s mouth. She moved away from Draco, her hands immediately going to Lucius cloak and gloves, disappearing into the closet to return them to their proper places. She could picture the ensuing conversation about letting the elves do it, but Narcissa’s stomach balked at the idea of one of them touching clothing with their filthy little hands. And she had certainly done this sort of thing before, often going so far as to organize his trunk in her fashion to properly place things away. She returned immediately, righting the fabric that had fallen off of her shoulder. She paused grasping her hands together. Narcissa shook her head with a very faint smile. Habits and insticts would not be needed. “I will be gone to school, with Draco, in three months. I doubt he will want any habits to be cultivated. And I doubt you’ll want the peace of family Holidays intruded upon. I can stay out of the way, from both of you, until September. And when -if- I’m still in this time come next summer, a variant situation can be arranged. I can wait until the Ministry rectifies this situation, find…employment,” That final word struggled to roll off of her tongue. “And if the Ministry declares this permanent, as Auror Flincher suggested they may, I’m sure there are plenty of young, Pureblooded suitors…” Narcissa finally closed her mouth, her teeth pressing down on her tongue. Practical Narcissa never made her feel very comfortable. She did not like being practical, she much preferred silly Narcissa who got whatever she wanted- not matter how impractical. “Dinner will be on the table and reheating charms really do dry out the beef.” words: 647 - tags: Malfoy Family. - outfit:-----.

[fid3ns]

Draco nodded slowly, deciding to refrain from speaking for the time being. Lucius was right; Narcissa had defended him and even lied to his father – her husband – to keep him out of trouble. It should have occurred to him that she had been telling the truth.

His face quickly turned bright red, and he uncomfortably shifted his weight from his left to his right. Snuggle dragon. Out of all the nicknames his mother had for him, his father had to pick that one. He dropped his hand to his side and watched as Narcissa moved about to put things away. She certainly had the same mannerisms as his mother, making sure things were put away nicely and were done correctly, and even after he had hurt her, she was still trying to make sure that he was comfortable. It would be hard and he may never get used to her being this way, but he supposed he could try.

Her announcement about going to school with him was surprising. He wouldn't want her mothering him while they were there, that was true, especially since she might not exactly agree with some of the... activities in which he got involved. Though they were a family who looked down on non pure-bloods and blood traitors alike, he was certain Narcissa would not approve of his behavior toward those groups.

And then she started going on about staying out of the way until school and then even possibly leaving. Draco's eyebrows pulled together a bit, and he looked from Narcissa to Lucius and back again. If it was permanent? He might lose his mother again, and for good this time? He swallowed, his hands balling into loose fists. Now was not the time to be thinking about this; there was still time for it to be fixed. He felt his stomach rumble.

Besides, he was hungry.