WHO: Lucius & Narcissa Malfoy WHAT: Talking about family. WHEN: backdated to March 3, afternoon WHERE: Narcissa's office at the Prophet
Bypassing the other Prophet employees, Lucius made his way to Narcissa’s office and closed the door. With a wave of his wand, the flowers he had brought with him found themselves in a vase. He stood next to her desk, resting his hip against it as he smiled at Narcissa. “Are you too busy today or can I take you to lunch?”
“I’m never too busy for lunch with you,” Narcissa answered, glancing up from the papers spread before her to smile up at her husband, already starting to draw them into a neat pile. Her attention flicked to the flowers and her smile widened when she turned it back on Lucius. “Those are very lovely. Is there a special occasion?”
"Only if you consider me hoping it would persuade you to go to lunch with me a special occasion," he answered. His attention was briefly distracted by the papers that were being gathered together. "Has anything been giving you trouble lately?
“No more trouble than usual,” she said, sparing the door of her office an impatient glance. She loathed whichever of her ungrateful employees was behind the Beacon nonsense, but she was in no real rush to find out who it was. She rose from her chair to drop a quick kiss on her husband’s cheek, her fingers smoothing over the collar of his shirt. With a smile and a hint of irony, she asked, “How was the Ministry?”
"As well as it can be," Lucius said mildly, barely remembering the time he had spent there earlier that day. "My assistant didn't show up so I undoubtedly have a long list of complaints that needs to be attended to."
“I can’t fathom why anyone would still be complaining about Quidditch,” she said, shaking her head. “It was such a dull sport. And it barely makes sense.”
"If I've learned anything lately, it's that I shouldn't underestimate any Quidditch fans, but," he sighed, "let's not dwell on Quidditch any longer than we have to. Did you want to go anywhere in particular?"
Narcissa gave Lucius a sympathetic frown, but was happy to drop the subject of Quidditch. She did, of course, still feel a slight pang of regret on Angelus’s part. Quidditch had made sense to him. But she pursed her lips in thought. “Diagon Alley is too dreary for lunch these days. Why not that nice bistro in Upper Flagley?”
Lucius nodded his agreement, extending his hand for Narcissa to take. “The dreariness isn’t affecting your work, is it?” There was a spike of fear at something happening to the Daily Prophet offices and he frowned at the thought. With what had been happening lately, it was more than possible.
“No, not really,” she said, taking his hand. Then, thinking of her lunch with Bellatrix and what had transpired afterwards with the Carmichael boy, “Not Diagon Alley, anyway.” She frowned at Lucius. “Do you think I was right to tell Rabastan what Bellatrix had planned? I know she’s furious with me, but she could’ve killed that boy.”
After intertwining their fingers, he turned to look at Narcissa. "Of course you were right. Rabastan wouldn't want his son dead." And after a beat, he added, "And Bellatrix shouldn't have interfered."
Something sheepish fluttered across her features and she passed her other hand over her hair. “Well,” she said, “no. Or at the very least, she could’ve practiced a little more restraint. Don’t they have rubber knives or something like that?”
He couldn't help but laugh a little. "I'm certain they do, but I can't quite see Bellatrix as someone who would ever use one."
“No,” she said, echoing his laugh after a beat, “nor can I, really.” She pursed her lips in thought again before a frown settled across her lips. “I hate that it seems all Bellatrix and I ever do is fight anymore, though. I can never seem to make her happy.”
"Or," Lucius offered, "she isn't trying to make you happy. That's important too."
Narcissa’s fingers tightened around his hand and she let out a breath that felt like one she’d been holding for ages. “No,” she said, “I suppose she isn’t.”
His thumb caressed her hand as he asked, “Do you want me to speak with her?”
“No,” she said automatically. “That might just make her even more incorrigible.” She gave him a quick, grateful kiss. “I appreciate the offer, though.”
"I don't want to see you unhappy," Lucius said, concern still evident in his voice.
Unfortunately, Narcissa’s unhappiness went much deeper than her tense relationship with Bellatrix, but she wanted a pleasant lunch with Lucius so she wasn’t going to point that out. She reached up and brushed her fingers of her other hand over his collar again, her smile a little sad despite the words, “You make me very happy.”
The nature of her smile did not escape his notice — couldn't have, even if he tried — and he made a note to continue this conversation later. But for now, Lucius just smiled back. "I always hope so," he said, before nodding his head at the door and adding, "Let's go to lunch."