A Grave Mistake

Lucius quietly entered the dark room, looking around warily. He seemed to be alone, but he knew better than to lower his guard. Finally he spotted the dark figure standing by a window across the room, his back to him. Lucius's stomach jumped slightly, but he forced himself to maintain his calm facade. "My Lord," he said, as steadily as possible.

The man at the window did not move. Though he felt jittery with nerves, Lucius remained still as well. For almost a full minute, they stood like this, until finally the Dark Lord turned to face his servant.

"You disappoint me, Lucius." The Dark Lord walked toward him leisurely. Lucius wanted to step away, but remained firmly rooted in his place. "I would expect that your wife would not be so ...incorrigible."

Lucius inclined his head slightly. "Forgive her impudence, my Lord. Narcissa is just an emotional mother, determined to ensure her son's safety." He spoke smoothly, but respectfully. "She allowed her emotions to overcome her."

The Dark Lord cocked his head slightly, then meandered to the left a bit, studying his servant. "The Malfoys are an old pureblood family, with generations of ...respectable marriages. I don't know of a single head of the Malfoy family who was ruled by his wife," he punctuated the last few words to drive his point home.

"That's because none have been, as of now, my Lord."

"You defied me rather than punish her. And you say she does not rule you?"

Lucius lowered his gaze to the floor, gathering his thoughts quickly; he could not afford to say the wrong thing. "My Lord, she did not escape punishment, even after leaving our meeting. I hesitated only because I feared that my anger was not sufficient to cast the curse effectively - "

"Do not lie to me, Lucius." The Dark Lord stopped walking and regarded him. "A wife should be no more than a pet; existing to amuse you. When a dog misbehaves, it receives a swift kick." He lowered his voice even more. "If the offense is bothersome enough, it no longer serves its purpose and is eliminated."

Lucius tensed, slowly lifting his eyes to meet his lord's. The crimson eyes he saw were ice cold. Determined to remain calm outwardly, Lucius did not answer immediately. "My Lord... ...our family has been loyal, never uttering a traitorous word since you came to power. My wife's protective instincts overcame her good sense and dedication for one moment, but she won't soon forget the consequences of that moment."

The Dark Lord considered him for a moment, then his red eyes widened. Suddenly Lucius felt his master dive into his mind, sifting through his thoughts. Lucius was not a master Occlumens, but he was proficient, and immediately put up some barriers in his mind, trying to bring up memories that he wanted the Dark Lord to see. He felt his master searching through his recent memories. Lucius brought up the image of him hitting Narcissa when they returned home, of him torturing her in the Dark Lord's presence - his master immediately flung that memory aside; Lucius hid the memory of telling Narcissa that they just had to survive - he didn't know how his master would take that. He was having trouble keeping up with the Dark Lord, and he began seeing things that he'd rather not let his master see... he and Narcissa entangled on the floor, clutching each other desperately... ...Narcissa sobbing uncontrollably in his arms... ...Cissa on his desk, her shirt hanging open, him running his hands over her skin......

And suddenly he was gone from his thoughts, and Lucius quickly regained his composure. The Dark Lord looked at him with mock sympathy. "I hadn't realized I was interrupting, Lucius," he said, a bit smug.

Lucius said nothing.

"Your wife is weak. Those who are weak are swayed easily."

"My Lord, Narcissa is a Black; she has supported the cause of the purebloods since childhood. Forgive me, my Lord, but she won't be changing her loyalties, especially while under my charge."

His master considered him for a long moment. "Very well, Lucius. I trust you will ensure that no such outburst occurs again." He turned away from him, and went back to the window. "Go."

Slightly relieved, Lucius turned to leave the room. "And Lucius?"

He turned to face the figure now looking out the window. "My Lord?"

The Dark Lord did not bother to turn. "When an uncontrollable pet is no longer wanted, the master kills it himself."

There was a long silence. "Yes, my Lord," he whispered.

----------------------------------------

Narcissa was in bed, but had never been more awake in her life.

She couldn't even think of going to sleep when Lucius was in such danger. Horrible mental images flashed before her eyes, of her husband being tortured and dying, of him going on impossibly dangerous missions, being caught, taken to Azkaban, receiving the Dementor's Kiss... She needed him to come home and be in her arms, so that she knew he was safe.

On the other hand, she was equally afraid that Lucius had been summoned merely to get him out of the way, and that the Death Eaters or even the Dark Lord himself were coming for her. The most upsetting image that came to mind was that of her sister - for though she dearly loved her sister (she was her sister, after all), Bellatrix had not been in her right mind for some time now, even before Azkaban. Last night, she'd known that Lucius did not want to torture her, but Bella... she wondered about Bella. Her older sister seemed to thrive on torturing people of late. And even worse than that, she lived and breathed the Dark Lord. She no longer thought for herself. Narcissa cringed to think of what was going on between Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, but was fairly certain that her sister did not go home to Rodolphus at night.

So if the Dark Lord ordered Bellatrix to kill her baby sister, would she cheerfully follow his orders?

Narcissa didn't want to think about that. She was fairly certain she knew the answer.

And so she lay awake in the darkness, staring at the wall, forcing the dreadful imaginings from her mind. When the door of the bedroom swung open slowly, she jumped and turned over to look at the door. There was a figure coming through the door, but the room and hallway were both pitch black.

"Lucius?" she said timidly.

The figure sighed. "You're not asleep, then, I take it," the voice drawled.

Narcissa relaxed at the sound of his voice, throwing back the covers and bouncing across the room to wrap him in her arms.

"Narcissa, try to be proper for once," he said stiffly.

She withdrew her embrace slowly, confused and a little hurt. "Are you all right?"

In the deep shadows, she saw him look down at her. "Quite."

Something seemed terribly wrong. "What happened?"

He made a face that expressed annoyance. "You don't need to ask so many questions." He stepped around her briskly, unbuttoning his robes.

Narcissa recognized the 'Malfoy' veneer she was facing, but couldn't understand why she was seeing it. "Lucius...- "

"Go to bed, Narcissa."

Simmering with frustration, she obeyed him. The last time Lucius had treated her this way was after Abraxas Malfoy had berated him for being so "primitive" with his fiancé (they'd been kissing, rather chastely, in the drawing room. Alone.). She pulled the covers up to her chin angrily and stared at the ceiling.

Lucius got into bed, pulling up the covers and then sidling up to her. She squirmed away from him. "Try to be proper for once, Lucius," she hissed spitefully.

For a moment she thought he might hit her, but what he actually did was far more painful. He laughed. He laughed, not his real laugh, but his 'Malfoy' laugh, that malicious laugh he used when mocking those he considered inferior. He sat up, then propped himself up with an arm on either side of her so she was trapped. "Narcissa... You know I love you, but I can't have you making outbursts like the one last night. You could damage your own reputation, my reputation, the Black reputation, and the Malfoy reputation. Perhaps you have forgotten the values of this family."

She scooted out from under him and sat up. "You won't speak to me like this," she said incredulously. "To the ministry, to your friends, to the Dark Lord, to Draco even, if you must, but NOT to me!" She'd shoved him away from her and now threw back the covers and got out of bed, heading for the door.

Immediately he was out of bed and grabbing her tightly. "Cissa, you can't - "

"I most certainly can do whatever I bloody well please!"

"You are completely out of control, Narcissa!"

Her voice became incredibly outraged. "DON'T YOU TALK DOWN TO ME LIKE THAT!!! I am your wife, Lucius, not some Muggle-born imbecile! If I wanted to talk to a hypocritical self-absorbed one-dimensional chauvinist, I'd go talk to Travers or Avery! I have been awake all night worrying about you, praying that you'd come home to me safe, and all you can do is put up a wall between us!!"

Lucius stared down at her, his face a mask of intimidation. Yet he said nothing. His grasp had loosened slightly, so when she saw that he was not going to break character or apologize, she pulled out of his grip and moved for the door. Before she made it two steps, though, he grabbed her arms and slammed her back against the door. Pain shot through her shoulders and neck. He was crushing her arms in his grip and pushing her against the door, but there was something in his eyes that didn't match his actions. Nevertheless... he was hurting her. Oddly enough, Narcissa found herself smirking at him. "Are you going to beat me, Lucius?" she asked, clearly challenging him. Her eyes flashed nastily. "Funny - your father used to beat your mum in this room. Keeping up the old traditions, I guess."

Her husband's expression became pained. "You won't speak of my parents like that."

"Why not? It was obvious. She'd go to bed in the evening looking healthy and fine, and in the morning she'd have a black eye - and she'd flinch whenever your father moved abruptly - it's probably why he always carried a cane. And don't tell me you don't remember Christmas morning of - "

She'd done it - his veneer cracked and revealed a completely livid man. He yanked her away from the door and gave her a good shove, making her fall to the floor in a heap. "You'd LIKE me to hit you, Narcissa, wouldn't you?" he snarled. "You'd like for me to beat you, so that it's MY fault, so that I'M the one who's wrong, so we forget that it's YOU who couldn't keep your BLOODY MOUTH SHUT in front of the Dark Lord, and YOUR FAULT that I had to torture you, and YOUR FAULT that I have to treat you like this!!!" He remained where he stood, his shoulders heaving. His voice became calmer but no less angry. "I am sorely tempted to take you up on that challenge - there will be no question of you ruling me if you can barely walk the next time the Dark Lord sees you."

Narcissa gazed up at him, controlling her heavy breathing. Guilt ate away at her, and her anger was swiftly dissolving into mere sadness. She did not break eye contact with him. He slowly walked over until he was standing right over her, towering. For a moment she recalled being in the same position last night, and felt her stomach tighten. Lucius stared down at her without moving or speaking. He's really going to do it, she thought. I've pushed him over the edge and he's going to do it. ...But... I love him... Nothing will ever be the same if he does this... I don't want to think of you like this, Lucius, please don't... ...please...

He studied her intensely for another moment. Then he held out his hands to her. Hesitantly, she took hold of them, and he helped her up. He moved over to their bed and sat down, drawing her along and then very, very gently guiding her to sit across his lap like a child. He cradled her in his arms, letting her head tip back slightly so he could look into her eyes. "Cissa... I'm just a man," he said quietly.

Knowing that this was his way of apologizing, she gave a barely-noticeable nod and slid one of her hands up to rest on his shoulder. "What happened?" she asked softly, lowering her gaze.

He shifted her slightly in his arms. "The Dark Lord expects you to be subordinate," he practically whispered. "He expects me to keep you subordinate, because if you aren't..." His voice caught in his throat. "If you aren't, he'll order me to kill you."

Narcissa's eyes flicked back up to his quickly. She wished she didn't have to ask... "And would you obey?"

He made an odd face. "I shouldn't ever receive that order." His eyes were positively blazing. "Surely you wouldn't put me in that position, Cissa; it would be a horrible decision to make!"

"You'd even have to think about it?" she asked incredulously.

"If I refused to obey the Dark Lord's order to execute you, what do you think would happen, Cissa? You'd end up dead anyway, probably by Bellatrix's hand, and I'd probably end up dead too, leaving Draco to be raised by the Lestranges. Or, you'd be executed anyway, I'd be tortured nearly out of my mind, and Draco would be killed, too, - "

A lump was rising in her throat, but she didn't allow herself to cry. "Stop," she interrupted him. The hand on his shoulder clutched a handful of his nightshirt tightly.

"Just... stop."