Narcissa understood why Lucius did not want to speak about Draco. As he said, there was nothing that could be done to make the pain go away. Following his logic, if nothing could be done, then there was no sense in dwelling on it. She could understand, but, she could not ignore or just internalize the fact that their son was hurting. She had always been very good at keeping her emotions in check, or fooling others into believing she was interested and enjoying their company when she was not. She could still do it when she had to interact with their current house guests. She could not do it with Lucius, and she would not do it when it came to matters about Draco.
"He's our son," she finally said. "And he's just a boy." She felt the warm stinging of tears threatening to spill. All of his life, Narcissa was there to kiss away the scrapes or skinned knees Draco had. No motherly power could ease his pain and it ate away at her. She couldn't even be there to console him. Make no mistake, though she was on the verge of crying, there was fight in her. Those tears were fueled not just by sadness; she was angry.
"Lucius, I don't know how much more of this I can take," she said. She turned around to look at him. "We failed him."