It Wasn't His Fault

Waking up the first thing I do is listen. I hear nothing except for soft breathing, a woman's. Then I try to smell something, anything. A soft perfume, rose perhaps. Not quite sure, it's mixed with something. Mentally I shrug. Opening my eyes and turning my head to the right I see Narcissa is there, sleeping. At my bedside. What am I, an invalid? I think to myself, huffing a bit. This whole situation annoys me. She stirs a bit. Then nothing. The clock says it's evening, late evening. Finally I grow tired of the silence. Tired of her sleeping over me, it's a bit creepy.

Loudly I say, "Do you have any firewhiskey?" She jumps. My voice cutting through her ears and into the fog of her sleeping mind.

"Oh..." She looks at me for a moment. "Well I don't know if you should be drinking right now, with the state you're in."

She says this almost apologetically. I can feel my nose flair. I can't help it. Or perhaps I don't really care to. "But you do have firewhiskey?"

Nodding, "Yes, yes, Lucius drinks it. I can't stand the stuff."

I nod and look at her. "Well, may I have some. I really need some."

Again, she makes that face. What is that face? "Nympha-"

"Dora. It's just Dora." I say, emphasizing the 'just.'

"Right, I'm sorry. Lucius has this idea we should call you by your full name. I remember when I hated being called by my full name and just wanted to be called Cissa by my parents. They never listened." She frowned a bit here. Obviously re-living some old memory. "But I will adhere to your wishes, Dora."

"Yeah..." What was I supposed to say to that?

*Downstairs*

Their elf brings me to Lucius' study. Why I need an escort I'll never know. I've been her so many times I can't even recall. Knocking,

"Lucius."

From the other side of the door. "Come in."

I nod as I enter and walk across the room and sit. "How is she?"

He looks at me, a bit pointedly but sighs, leaning back resting his hands on the armrests. "She's asleep. Cissa fell asleep watching her, so I left."

"Hm... You have not heard anything from your sources?"

A shake of the head, "All is quiet."

I open my mouth to respond.

"Almost too quiet Severus." As he says this his eyebrows furrow together a bit.

"Well, I shall run by my contacts as well. Though that may not produce anything."

"No... It may not." Wearily he looks at me. Chuckling, "I remember when she was conceived."

I look at him. His face is drawn, pensive, the chuckle didn't quite reach his features, it was somewhere buried, deep within the chest.

"I had told her mother that our first child would be the first of a new breed. Boy or girl. Boy preferably. A new child of Slytherin. Someone that would carry on the fight by marrying into a good family."

Silence stretched across the room, filling the space.

Again, he chuckled. "She was not happy with this proclamation."

I nod. "Well, she wouldn't be, would she."

He nods his head and exhales. "I thought that she would go along with it. I mean, she loved me."

I snort. "You mean, you are Lucius Malfoy."

He smiles, "Yes, well, at the time I suppose that was what I was thinking. I didn't think about love back then. Love was..."

"Non-exisistant?"

"Weakness. A sentiment of muggles and muggle-lovers." Sighing, "Of course, now..."

"Now it's not that simple."

"No. No it's not." He looks at me. His mind coming out of its foggy reverie. "What brings you here?"

"Just checking on her, that's all."

Curtly, "She is safe here."

"I know. I meant... I just want to make sure she's okay." Sighing, "You don't have a relationship with her, Merlin's balls Lucius, you've tried to kill her, she's tried to kill you. Just want-"

KNOCK. KNOCK.

"Come in!"

Kingsley and Albus Dumbledore enter. Both looking less than pleased to be here. "Lucius" "Mr. Malfoy." They both greet him.

"What brings you two here?" He says, first looking at them, then me.

"We came to see how her condition was." Albus answers.

Clearing his throat, "Also, do inquire if you've heard anything?"

"Ah. I have not heard anything. As for her, her condition is asleep."

The room falls silent. Lucius' hand has fallen to his cane. No doubt a subconscious gesture from his time as a deatheater.

"Of course, we could always go check on her." Rising he steps around his desk and strides out of the office, his guests following.