One last thing When: 21st July 2001, just gone five in the morning Where: Master bedroom, Malfoy Manor Who: Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, a cool alarm clock. What: Lucius needs to speak to Narcissa before he leaves.
Narcissa lay asleep, on her side, hair fanning out across the pillows that massed about her. She had her back to the centre of the bed, and still slept mostly on what had been her side. A sheet was drawn up to just below her breasts, the blanket kicked away in the warm night, and her shoulders were bare apart from the thin straps of her nightgown. There was nothing unusual about any of this; Narcissa slept on as she always did, her wand on the bedside table, next to the curious little clock that would wake her in an hour with a shrill whistling sound. And, if she didn't get up, it would walk over to her head and repeat its whistling right in her ear.
Lucius hadn't been to sleep yet. Though he knew everything was in place - passports, travel documents, their furniture had already been placed into storage - he ran through the lists in his mind, touching each paper to confirm its existence several times before he became bored of pretence. It was nothing to do with concern for organisation, it was that tomorrow morning he would be leaving Malfoy Manor. Lucius had never acknowledged another building as home; he was born here, had lived his childhood and married life here, his son had been born here. The destiny that had been tied to the Manor, of being heir to the Malfoy wealth and land, was now gone. Nevertheless, heir, head of the household or not, a concern that Lucius rarely felt tightened in his chest at the thought he might be leaving these rooms forever.
Though they were leaving early Lucius had hoped to catch a moment alone with Narcissa in the morning. He glanced up at the handless clock which adorned his wall and considered; it might be impossible to speak with her if Bella insisted on hanging about, and possibly Draco too. Decided, he picked up the journal and his wand.
He heard a couple of portraits huff in annoyance at his early wandering as his passed, one commenting that he hadn't even bothered to undress for bed. Lucius was in the basics of day clothes - an open necked white shirt, folded to his forearms, plain black trousers and bare feet.
Narcissa's room (as he had taught himself to think of it) was, naturally, dark. He could hear nothing from behind the door, but once inside the room he picked up the easy rhythm of her breathing. Lucius kept his wand lowered to the floor, able to see enough of the room from its glow. He moved over to the side of the bed that had always been Narcissa's, though now she was more against the centre of the bed. He reached out a hand, but she was too far across to touch. With a knee leaned against the bed he leaned touched her shoulder, bare but for the strap of her nightdress.
There was a sound rather like, "Hmm?" and Narcissa turned onto her back, face scrunching up into a frown before her eyes opened, lashes heavy with sleep. The lines between her brow lasted until she saw Lucius, and then for a moment they melted away. But Narcissa wasn't caught in sleepy dreams imagining her husband was back by her side - three seconds later, Narcissa was pushing herself into a sitting position, and her furrowed brow was threatening to return.
"What's wrong?" she asked, because there could be no other reason for Lucius to be in here at - she glanced at the clock - just gone five.
He watched her wake, unable to prevent the softest of smiles. It felt a lifetime ago that he had lay in bed, watching the morning light filter through the room and waiting for Narcissa to wake. She sat upright and Lucius looked downwards, feeling odd to avert his eyes from her. "Nothing," he assured "I wanted to speak to you before we leave."
"Oh," was the quiet reply, and to give herself time to think (it was odd for him to come in like that, and she didn't know what to make of it) she reached for her wand and directed the curtains to slide open a few inches. Pale morning sunlight slipped through the gap, giving the room a pale, slightly grey cast. Narcissa put her wand back down, and turned her attention back to Lucius. "What did you want to say?" she asked, more kindly, wondering if she ought to get out of bed. Not that it felt strange, as such, to have him sitting there.
"I thought to bring you this, that we might keep in touch more easily." Lucius slipped the journal from under his arm and placed it onto the sheets beside her. He sat comfortably on the bed, though moving little. It seemed too overly familiar to lean against the pillows or to allow his bare feet onto the mattress.
She picked up the little book, turning it over in her hands. "This is one of those new diary things, isn't it?" she asked. "Draco has one, to talk to his friends, I've never quite -" Narcissa's eyes flicked up to Lucius' face again. "If you're using these, do be careful," she told him. "I've seen the charms on them, a strong wizard could break them." That sort of concern was the easiest thought in her head to express; that he wanted to be able to talk to her, and more freely and swiftly than owl post might allow, was touching.
He smiled at her warning, "We could secure them further," he said with a slight shrug, "we both have our rings." He glanced to her hands, quite forgetting that his gaze was supposed to be held away. "The charms wouldn't be too difficult, and there's always blood work I could perform if you were truly concerned."
"Our wedding rings, or just yours?" she asked, well aware that there was a double of the ring on Lucius' hand. The idea of putting charms on something so dear to her was curiously ambivalent; Lucius' ambiguous status made it difficult for her to know instinctively whether or not he had the right to tamper with these things. It was early still, and she yawned to prove it, but she was sure there were spells to connect duplicate objects, even if right now they were out of her sleepy reach.
The tip of his thumb touched the smooth surface of his ring. He had rarely removed it, save for cleaning. It didn't sit well that this was not truly the ring with which they'd married. Lucius glanced up to meet her gaze, "I don't think it will make a difference for the spell." It might make a difference to him, but he hadn't woken her to address the existence of objects that seemed to contradict his own existence. He was silent for a moment, watching her yawn. "I want to be sure that you can contact me, so that if need be, I can come home." It was a bold statement that Narcissa might need him, particularly when she'd lived these past few years without him.
It was a little like being hit with repeated but short-lived Confundus Charms. But the moment this next one wore off, Narcissa found herself smiling. "Thank you," she said. "That's very kind of you." She put the diary down and pushed aside the sheets, sliding quickly out of bed and reaching for a dressing gown. She slipped it over her shoulders and went to her bureau, touching the pretty gold lock on one of the doors so that a key materialised in it. Narcissa turned this key, opened the door, and pulled out a mahogany jewellery box. It was quite a large one, but not so big that Narcissa couldn't bring it back across to the bed. She sat down on her side, and opened the lid of the box, which had many curses tied into its flesh memory.
Inside was wealth enough to feed all the numerous Weasleys for a year. Narcissa's wedding jewellery was in here, her engagement ring, and her more valuable gems and stones. She lifted out a little green velvet tray, which glistened with diamonds like a field on a frosty morning, and produced a soft bag with a ring inside that didn't fit her finger. She put the little case down on the bed between herself and Lucius.
"The charms would be stronger if we used this, wouldn't they?" she asked, a little warily. Was this a good idea? What would this ring's original owner think? "Not that I think anyone's going to be snooping around, but I'd rather be safer than not."
From the side of his vision he watched her put on her dressing gown, then watched her approach the bureau. He remembered both it and the box, though he thought that it had been in this room rather than the one that had been their own previously. He suspected it had belonged to his mother for a similar purpose, and he recognised the jewellery box as belonging to Narcissa. Some time after they married he knew that his father had given Narcissa the items that had once belonged to his mother, and he wondered what had become of them now.
He looked down at the case as she placed it between them, reluctant to touch this ring that was the replica of the one on his finger - though, of course, it was the other way round. "I think so," he said, unwilling to take the ring himself when she had so clearly preserved it as a memory of the husband she had lost. He felt unsure if it belonged to him.
"What do you think?" she asked him uncertainly. "We should use - we should use whatever you're happy with." She drew up one knee, tucking her foot underneath her other leg, wondering suddenly if she'd overstepped the mark. Bellatrix had asked her why this Lucius wasn't treated as her husband, and Narcissa had told her it was complicated, and while Narcissa was /good/ at traversing complicated social situations, this was one of the few occasions where she didn't have the courage and confidence to just waltz her way through.
Lucius glanced at her and back to the ring, reaching out for it now that he had permission. He held it on his palm, considering that it really felt no different to his own. "For the purpose of the charms, it seems best to use the original." The original, just like he wasn't the original, or was he? Lucius frowned and turned his thoughts to the charms, "I think they should hold well, and it should certainly put off anyone but the most determined wizard. I don't think you are under such great suspicion as that." He wondered if he should replace the ring on his finger with this one, and glanced at her again.
"Alright, then," she said. "And if I keep this one, and you use yours when you're gone ..." She felt an urge to fiddle with her own wedding ring, and resisted it. "Are you going to be talking to Draco?" she asked him suddenly. She knew they hadn't spoken much, but he might ...
He nodded and placed the ring back into its case. Her question surprised him slightly; they had spoken a little of Draco, but it was difficult. Lucius knew that she was keen to keep Bella from him, and possibly even Regulus. But Lucius was unclear of both her and his own expectations when it came to Draco. Their son did not call Lucius father, and he couldn't help but feel a little grateful for this, though it left certain feelings without place or purpose. "We made our agreement for leaving," he said with hesistation "his relief was obvious, I don't think-" he straighted on the bed, "it's probably best to just go."
"It's Bella he's glad to see go," she said quickly. "After everything she did, I don't want her around him either, it's not good for him. But -" She shrugged. "You've been very good with him. Thank you."
This was the second time she had thanked him, but Lucius didn't feel that he had done much. Their conversations had been easiest when they were business like, and despite his single day of parenthood, even Lucius could see that more was needed, though perhaps not wanted. "Perhaps Bella calls up a stronger reaction, but I don't think that Draco feels entirely comfortable," Lucius made a noise of amusement at the ridiculousness of that statement "I mean that...the time I recall doesn't rest well with him."
"I think it's more difficult for him than it is for me," she said honestly. "At least I ... know you. I did wonder if you were a little glad to leave, though."
If Abraxas had shown up at the Manor suddenly youthful and entirely out of place, Lucius didn't know that he would receive it with anything approaching the reluctant acceptance of Draco. He tilted his head slightly at her comment, unsure how to answer her "When I left, there was you and Draco, and father asleep somewhere in the house. And beyond a whole world of faces I knew and places I was familiar with. I've come to think of things in terms of what is necessary now." It was more honest than he had expected, but part of him suspected that Narcissa would appreciate his honesty.
Narcissa didn't know what to say. She knew he must be hurting from the loss, that this was a situation where he had to harden himself to those emotions, and she did wish that it wasn't so. And he was so much like himself, sitting here talking to her in that quiet tone, and she /was/ going to miss him, and it sounded like he might miss her too. All of which were good things, but inescapably sad too.
Lucius picked up the case and placed it into his pocket, "I'll return it before we leave. It shouldn't take long to perform the magic." He turned slightly to rise from the bed, then seemed to think better of it "do you think it quite proper that Draco should spend time with your cousin?" he asked her, not accusingly but intrigued if his own misgivings when it came to Regulus were misplaced.
Narcissa straightened up. "I don't think it's the best situation," she said, "but I won't stop Draco. He's of age, he can make his own decisions ..." She sighed. "They both got into it young, he thinks Reuglus is someone he has shared experiences with."
He couldn't help the doubtful, concerned look. "Bella seems to think that Regulus remains loyal to his family." Lucius stood from the bed, "but it seems to me that with no other shelter, he would profess nothing less." But Narcissa was right, Draco was of age and there was little to be said for forcing them apart. Still, Lucius couldn't help his lingering disdain for Narcissa's cousin.
"I think we, er, think less poorly of people who neglected the Dark Lord's service than we used to," Narcissa said, looking across at Lucius. "Regulus may have just discovered what a madman he was before the rest of us did."
"It's not that I disapprove of his betrayal," he said, straightening his rumpled white shirt. Lucius wasn't quite sure how to finish that sentence. He couldn't disapprove of what had proved to be a correct move, yet there was a lingering distrust and he couldn't help but doubt Regulus' claim of loyalty. Who wouldn't claim such things with Bellatrix poised at his throat? "Draco won't benefit from the unfluence of other, fearful young men." This line of conversation felt strange, it hinted at the role he knew his existence still left a vacuum for. "I will see you in an hour or two, then."
"Wait a minute," Narcissa said, getting up. "This is probably the last chance we have to speak without Bellatrix or Draco around." Now that she was fully awake, she might as well dress and head down to breakfast. "I know Draco's not what you expected," she said, "but I'm proud of him, and you were too."
"I didn't expect a thing," he said a little more sharply than he intended, "and for all the advice I give now, I don't know him" he continued more gently.
The smile that lingered around the corners of Narcissa's mouth vanished abruptly at Lucius' sharp words. "I'm very proud of him," she repeated. "And I'm proud of myself, too. Even if I've changed a lot from what I was." Sad, moping, controlling, she knew what Bellatrix had to think of her - but Narcissa saw herself as the survivor of terrible times. She didn't apologise for those changes; chin tilted a little higher than it was before, she felt an irrational need to defend what she'd had to do to keep on going.
Lucius caught the tilt of her chin and realised she might have taken this as a slight. He hadn't intended it that way at all, had only meant to point out that Draco was not disappointing - only unknown. "I know these things only as you tell me them, I don't remember or feel them as you do. You must know that it isn't that I find either of you lacking, not at all." Lucius stood upright, feeling disconcertingly powerless.
Mollified, Narcissa told him, "Bellatrix doesn't see things the same way," and folded her arms. But Lucius ought to know her well enough to see that her disgruntlement was no longer directed at him.
"He isn't Bellatrix's child," he said, the sharp tone returned to his voice "and I can't imagine Draco would be thrilled by her approval even if he received it."
"I couldn't care less what she thinks of Draco," Narcissa retorted, because it was Bellatrix's opinion of her that stung the most. "It's - well, it's just good to know that you don't have the same opinion of us as she does."
Lucius rasied an eyebrow, "outside of practical matters, Bella and I have rarely agreed." That was true enough. There had always been a slight clash of personality, and likely ego where he and Bella were concerned. He found himself feeling somewhat defensive, and wondered if Bella was likely to address the matter of Draco with him.
That was true enough to coax a small smile onto Narcissa's face. "I will miss you," she confessed, feeling it ought to be said.
Those few steps forward were the difficult part. He had meant to place his hand against her arm as he kissed her cheek, but instead his hand lifted naturally to her left cheek as he placed a kiss againt the right. "I will miss you too," he said, taking a step backwards.
For one wild moment she'd wanted to back away as he came towards her, but when it came the gesture didn't feel unnatural. She put her hand on his arm so he couldn't get too far away, smiling a little more. "I won't tell anyone you came into my room at the dead of night," she teased gently, though the sun was now streaming through the curtains in a slanted beam of gold across the carpet.
Lucius laughed, "Oh, that's very kind of you" he said, amused. "Though outside of this house, I think only the staff of St Mungos would be particularly interested."
"But people in this house might be either very amused or very horrified," she said, squeezing his arm and letting it go. "Should I swear Tibby to secrecy, do you think?"
"I think Tibby knows better," he said with a small smirk. "I'll see you for breakfast," he told her, intending to go back to his own rooms and dress for the day.
"I'll be down soon," she said. "You've woken me up. But ... did you sleep in that?" His clothes did look rather creased.
"I haven't slept," he told her.
She sighed. Men. "There are Invigorating Draughts in the kitchen," she told him. "I want you to have your wits about you when dealing with Bella, you understand?"
"Yes Mother," Lucius said, supressing a smile.
"Don't you dare!" she exclaimed, slapping his arm. "Don't you dare call me that!" Not least because her son was only five years younger ...
"Sorry," he said, eyes still a little wider than usual with amusement. He moved away to the door, "but thank you, anyway. I'll be careful." Lucius smiled and headed out of the room.
"I'll see you at breakfast," she told him, following to the door and then closing it.
When Narcissa did go down for breakfast, she was rudely interrupted as an alarm clock bounced onto the table and landed on her toast, shrilling sharply. It didn't take kindly to being forgotten.