| Lucius + Narcissa |
[02 Feb 2008|09:07am] |
WHO: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy
WHAT: A much needed discussion concerning their son, and themselves
WHERE: Malfoy Manor
WHEN: Saturday, Feb. 2
RATING: PG, for now
STATUS: Incomplete
A pale hand pressed to the glass of a large window, barred like what she could only assume resembled a prison cell. Narcissa had been sitting in the windowsill for most of the day, watching the front yard of the manor. Occasionally she saw a bird fly by and envied it. Oh, but she would give all of their fortune away if she, Lucius and Draco could fly far, far away from this place. Her eyes closed for a moment, and when reopened had filled to the brim with tears at the thought of her little boy. A times, she would see Death Eaters coming and going, walking through the courtyard to leave the property. A sickening reminder of what their once luxurious home had been reduced to. Were they going to round up Draco and humiliate him? Hurt him? Narcissa had to block out those thoughts, or she would become hysterical. Acting like that would only get her punished, possibly Lucius and Draco as well. Draco was supposed to be considered a failure, and crying over him would prove otherwise.
While she had privelage to go anywhere she pleased in the manor, Narcissa chose to stay closed up in her room. The risk of running into a Death Eater in the halls of the manor was great, and she chose not to subject herself to their cat calls and lingering stares. The only time she was permitted to leave the grounds was when she was told it necessary to show her face in public, the way Bellatrix had done not long ago. Thinking of that brought up the memory of her strange encounter with Theodore Nott; they had made plans to spend the day shopping together, only for him to leave just after arriving. Had he not truly wished to be seen with her? It was very troubling, indeed.
There was a wetness on the back of her hand. Only then did she realize her tears had fallen. She leaned her forehead against the glass and curled up in the windowsill. How much more of this would they have to take?
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