Date 29th July Location Malfoy Manor Characters Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy Rating pg
There was just enough of a breeze to stop the air from being stifling, and it gently nudged at a trailing end of a long, loose, light robe that dangled over the side of a teak sun lounger that had been laid out in the gardens. A large canvas parasol was nearby, a chair and table nestling in its shade, but Narcissa was draped gracefully over the long, low chair in the sun.
Although Narcissa was still a beautiful woman, she was in her forties, and she was a mother. Beneath the robe, she was quite covered up enough to avoid giving Draco any embarrassment, but her legs were stretched out, her eyes were closed, and the broad brim of her sunhat obscured and shaded her face. Lying in comfort, doing absolutely nothing: one of Narcissa Malfoy's favourite ways to pass the time.
Malfoy Manor had always been home; returning there when their plans were going so well was natural. Lucius missed the spaciousness of the Manor, and the comfort of a home he knew so well. Though Lucius knew the Manor was under Draco's command wholly, he himself knew every room, every portrait, could walk the Manor in full-dark in confidence. Lucius touched his wand to the front doors, knowing that if Draco were somewhere in the house he'd know of his return. Abraxas had always known of Lucius' late-night returns, and since he couldn't possibly hear them, it didn't take a great stretch of logic to work out why.
Never had Lucius held such great appreciation for his home (former home?). Bright light flooded the wider parts of the Manor, though its furnishings were cool to touch, and its windows were spelled to prevent the damage that could fade the Manor's innards.
"Dobby," Lucius said unthinkingly. No House Elf appeared as he walked, and for half a second the line of his mouth straightened in displeasure. "Tibby," he corrected.
Tibby was by his side in moments, almost running to match his strides "Where is my - where is Narcissa?" he asked.
"Mistress is lying in the sun," Tibby squeaked.
Without further comment Lucius passed through the Drawing Room and through the open french doors. Ahead he could see the canvas parasol, table and chairs, and Narcissa lounging along a low chair. Closer he couldn't see if her eyes were open or not, shaded as they were by her hat. Lucius turned to his side, glancing to see if Tibby had followed. He caught sight of the elf still by the house and made a sharp indication with his hand that the creature should come closer.
"Fresh iced orange juice," he told it, and moved to sit at the table and chair arranged in the shade. A few moments later Tibby returned with a pitcher of orange juice filled with ice cubes. Lucius poured a glass for himself and set it down, happy to be in the cool shade after the warmth of his apparition. He drank a whole glass at once and turned his gaze back to Narcissa.
Lucius hadn't misssed that his wife was now twenty years older, of course. But Narcissa was still beautiful, and her legs stretched along the chair still brought the hint of a smile to his lips. He stood and move close to her, knelt beside her and tipped the wide brim of her hat upwards.
"Narcissa," he said, wondering if she were asleep.
She wasn't quite asleep, but rather in that gentle dozing phase, where sounds around her simply lulled her into a deeper stupor. Time was drifting by, alternately sluggish and fast, and here in her own home Narcissa didn't worry about all the little noises. They floated in and out, unnoticed.
But when she heard the gentle creak of greater weight on the chair, felt the cushion move slightly, and had her hat tipped back so that bright sunlight made her scrunch up her face -
"Lucius!" she exclaimed in surprise, once the dancing blue spots had receded enough to let her see who had disturbed her. She sat up quickly, propping herself up on her hands, and started to smile. "You didn't tell me you were coming back." She tapped her wand to the chair, which shifted so that Narcissa could recline, rather than lie down, adjusted her hat, and fussily tucked her robe to the side so he wasn't anchoring it.
This was a surprise, and not an unwelcome one. The house had been far too quiet with nearly half its number gone.
Lucius smiled, "I sent you a message in the journal, but I suppose you haven't seen it." He moved back slightly as she shifted her robe, then stood up entirely to move to the shaded chair.
"Orange juice?" he offered, lifting the pitcher again. He thought that Narcissa would likely be keen for news of where they'd been, but Lucius didn't want to leap into all of that just now. It was pleasant enough to share the sunshine with Narcissa, who he'd missed as much as his home. He wasn't surprised to find that he had, they'd grown used to one another in the past few months. That was quite the achievement, given the obstactables that had stood in the way of friendship.
"Yes, please," she said, turning and leaning on her elbow so that she could still see him. She conjured another chair, the twin of Lucius', and got up to join him in the shade. The grass was pleasantly warm beneath her bare feet, and when she sat down she crossed one leg over the other and shot Lucius a sunny smile.
"I'm not going to ask where you've been just yet, but has it been pleasant?" she asked, taking the glass and sipping at it. Her tone was airy, but her eyes somewhat sharper as they fixed on his face. "And is it business that brings you back to Britain?"
"Tolerable," he answered with a one-shouldered shrug, "the food is too heavy and filling, and the weather is nothing like as glorious." Lucius glanced about at the gardens, furiously green and full of bloom. He loved summer at the Manor, though he loved winter equally. No place in his mind displayed the full force of the seasons quite so beautifully.
"Partially business," he admitted "we'll need to find a home here soon."
"So your sojourn abroad isn't permanent, then," she said, in a tone that gently criticised him for feeling he had to keep her in the dark about his plans. "Well, you might find a few homes that you recognise on the market - the Ministry hasn't sold /all/ our old friends' houses yet." She began to run through the list in her mind. Bella's home was, of course, empty, and they knew it well ... Yaxley's house too small ... and the Ministry probably wouldn't sell Snape's house at Spinner's End, even if it had been a palace instead of a dingy hole. Nott's son, Theodore, was alive and well ...
There was a touch of guilt in Lucius smile, "It isn't permenant," he assured "I anticipate we'll return within the fortnight." Lucius nodded at her comment, "That is good to hear, I'll admit a little apprehension to moving." It was strange to be moving away from this place - particularly when it had been intended to be his. Lucius lifted his orange juice and took a sip.
"That's a /lot/ sooner than I expected," Narcissa told him. "I take it you've found new identities, then. As husband and wife?" There was a hint of teasing in her voice, but also the /faintest/ edge of disapproval. Not for stealing lives, but for Lucius shacking up - however thin a pretence it was - with Bellatrix.
Lucius laughed, "Please don't phrase it that way." Bellatrix was a useful, strong person in many ways, but the idea of marrying her was ridiculous. Their personal intereactions had been tenuous at the best of times, it was only in the face of united opposition or a common goal that they succesfully managed not to hate one another. "But yes, we have."
"And?" Narcissa prompted, wanting to know more. Who were they, what were they like - more dangerously, and rather more excitingly, was there any possibility of them publicly knowing Narcissa Malfoy?
She didn't fully smother her smile at Lucius' reluctance to be paired with Bellatrix. Running away to the continent hadn't interfered with his senses, then.
"Late twenties, British citizens, both pureblood - one from the Yaxley line, the other Crouch. Both have changed their surname. The male's father was Death Eater, and the female's parents were sympathisers," he said, swirling his glass to make the ice cubes clink against the edge as he spoke. "It seems they left to get away from all post-war dealings, though it doesn't seem that they owe the Ministry reparations - the male's father's money was recovered, and the rest was secreted quickly enough that it couldn't be proven to be given in reparations."
Relatives of Barty Crouch who sympathised with Death Eaters - no wonder their daughter had wanted to get away. "It sounds like you might have usurped people I know," she said lightly, though the fact that she couldn't call up names and faces right away meant she didn't much care that they were gone. "So is Bella enjoying herself? How's she taking to married life?"
Lucius laughed again,"She's very focussed. I don't think she's at all suited to marriage - she's not to be found at meal times, or for that matter, many other times. She has done very well though; her investigations have been very in depth." He nodded, "Yes, it is a fortunate association," he said with a light smile.
"Well, things haven't been all that quiet here," she told him, reaching for the jug to refill her glass. "I take it you've heard about the Dark Mark being scrawled everywhere? One of those people tried to talk to me in Diagon Alley."
He nodded as she asked if he'd heard about the mark, his head jerking upwards in surprise as she said that one of them had spoken to her "To you? And what did they say?"
"They wanted my 'intellectual input'," she informed him, with some distaste. "They claimed to be continuing my honoured husband's work. Imbecile."
Lucius raised his eyebrows, "Your.../my/ work?" he asked, a look of confusion and distaste passing over his features.