Narcissa's eyes widened, and she struggled to contain the sudden wave of harsh disappointment within herself. "This healer does not have a cure ready for your Death Eaters?" she asked, smooth voice betrayed by a small choke. "Of course I have confidence in this individual's intelligence, but whoever's idea it was to-"
She stopped herself. It was not fair to her husband to project her displeasure on him, who she loved.
Pausing for a moment to absorb the rest of Lucius's words, she shivered noticeably upon an abrupt and sickening realization. Her husband had spoken of a need for healers as if he were involved in the problem. Admittedly, he had been communicating less with her, and yes, from what she could tell from her tiny locket he was looking a tad abnormal, but no, there was no way...