Leo

“Lucius,” Druella Black said softly as she approached her son-in-law at the Ministry of Magic.

“Druella,” Lucius nodded politely as he walked toward Minister Jenkins’s office. “What brings you to the Ministry?”

“Not that it should matter to you,” Druella said a bit coldly. “But Narcissa insisted I come tell you—especially with Abraxas and her Father on the way.”

Lucius immediately came to a halt and roughly pulled his mother-in-law to an alcove on the side where they would have some privacy. “Anything involving my wife matters to me,” Lucius said darkly, releasing her from his grasp. “Now what is going on?”

Druella glared, smoothing out the wrinkle in her sleeve where his hand had been. “She’s lost the child,” she bowed her head for a brief moment. “It was a boy.”

Lucius stared at her in shock for a moment before clearing his throat. “H-how is she?”

“Distraught,” Druella replied simply. “It’s going to get worse though once the patriarchs of the family show up.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll be there as soon as I reschedule with Jenkins.”

“Make it quick, Lucius,” Druella said softly, a hint of desperation in her voice. “Dealing with one angry man over this is distressing enough…”

Lucius studied his mother-in-law for a moment. He’s mostly known Druella has a cold and haughty woman that plays the dutiful wife; now, though, she just seemed just a bit reserved; as if she even allowed one tear to escape she would completely break apart. He placed a grateful hand on her shoulder then went to Jenkin’s office.

 The moment he left Jenkins’s office, he quickly went to the nearest fireplace that connected to Floo network and stated his mansion. He ducked under the mantle as he stepped out, glancing at Cygnus and Abraxas. “Took you long enough, Lucius,” Cygnus grumbled.

“I had to make arrangements, Cygnus,” Lucius replied curtly, passing by the two patriarchs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Abraxas demanded as Lucius continued toward the door.

“Maybe it’s beyond your notice, Father,” Lucius replied tensely. “But my wife went through an ordeal.”

“You don’t need to see her,” Cygnus grunted. “This is women’s business. Nothing for us men.”

“Considering that was supposed to be my son and heir,” Lucius snarled, his piercing grey eyes going between the fathers. “I disagree. My wife shouldn’t be going through this alone.”

“We’ve already destroyed it,” Abraxas growled, his gaze meeting Lucius’s evenly. “Druella brought us the box and we destroyed the remains so it wouldn’t become a botchling.”

Lucius stood frozen for a moment. “You dare—“

“It’s dead, Lucius!” Abraxas snapped. “We did what everyone must do the moment you see the dead things: destroy them. They no longer matter to the family; they no longer matter to you… they never did!”

“Gentlemen, please,” Druella spoke, glaring at the men. “We’ve got enough on our plates.”

Lucius snorted in disgust, turning to speak to his mother-in-law. “How is she?”

“Physically, she’ll recover,” Druella murmured, keeping a wary eye on her husband. “Emotionally… distraught. I had to sedate her.”

“Can I see her?”

She glared at her husband briefly, then looked back at Lucius. “Don’t be hard on her.”

Lucius wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but gave a simple nod in acknowledgement. He then apparated to the door of his bed chamber, turning the knob slowly. When he opened the door, a lump caught in his throat. His wife lay on her side on the bed, her hands stained with blood. Her head resting just before the pillow, her hair disheveled; she seemed paler to him— probably from what he presumed was blood loss. He crossed the room and slowly sat on the bed. He put his hand on hers, and she stirred. He then pulled her body against his, cradling her. Tears welled up in his eyes as he slowly began rocking her; caressing her face. “I’m sorry, my Flower,” he murmured softly, a tear escaping from his eye and sliding down into her brunette strands.

He didn’t know how long he remained that way— he thought maybe it was a few hours— before Narcissa stirred. “Lucius?” Her voice croaked.

“I’m here, ‘Cissa,” he whispered, looking down at her tear filled eyes. “Druella told me.”

A sob escaped her throat as she buried her face into his chest. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…I-I don’t know what I did—“

“You did nothing wrong,” he said firmly, rubbing her back as she once again started to cry. “You did nothing wrong…” a deep sigh escaped his throat as he fought to compose himself. She didn’t need to see him weak; he needed to be her rock. “These things happen.”

“You sound like you know from experience,” Druella spoke, causing the couple to look up in surprise.

“My mother suffered a couple of them,” Lucius admitted, adjusting his grip a bit to make Narcissa more comfortable as he leaned back against the pillows. “Before having my sisters.”

“I see,” Druella replied, crossing the room and sitting at the edge of the bed; placing her hand on Narcissa’s in a comforting gesture; waving her wand and closing the door to the chamber. “Then you understand why what I reveal must be kept in the strictest confidence?”

“What?” Lucius frowned.

“They didn’t destroy the remains,” Druella said softly, kneeling down to pull a shoebox out from under the bed. “They only believe they did. They don’t want to become attached to a ‘could have been’ situation; they don’t want to dwell. They just want to move on. I learned after the first time to always keep a spare shoebox around to use as a decoy. Did you have a name in mind?”

“Leo…” Narcissa mumbled, burying her face once again into Lucius’s shoulder. “For the Lion constellation.”

“Good name,” Druella nodded approvingly. “Especially for the first born.”

A sob escaped Narcissa’s throat again and Lucius held her tightly. “What exactly do you want us to do?”

“Give him a proper burial,” Druella said softly. “Botchlings appear only if the child is unwanted… clearly he was wanted; but, you still should give him a proper burial… for your sake. It’ll bring some peace.”

Lucius nodded, continuing to rub Narcissa’s back as her sobs subsided. “We will,” he murmured, relaxing his grip as he realized she had fallen asleep again.

“She’s exhausted,” Druella murmured, sliding the shoebox back under the bed. “She’ll probably sleep for awhile.” She glanced at the door for a moment as Lucius gently laid Narcissa beside him. “Tell me, Lucius, how many chances are you planning on giving Narcissa before you abandon her?”

“As many as she needs,” Lucius replied curtly. “Maybe you didn’t hear the last part of our vows, but I did say ‘til death do us part.’”

“Vows mean nothing to our families,” Druella replied darkly, standing up to go downstairs. “We both know that. I just pray my daughter isn’t the fool when you break yours.”

🦁

Narcissa stirred again after about an hour, flinching beneath the sheets. “It’s alright,” Lucius murmured, returning to sit beside her on the bed. He had left the room very briefly to cast several hexes and curses in the middle of nowhere on the estate, to give him something to focus on as an outlet. He refused to take his anger out on his wife— she didn’t need that— and had only just gotten back when she stirred. “I’m here.”

“I don’t know what happened…” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Everything was fine… Everything was fine…”

As her hands started to grab at her hair, Lucius quickly caught them. “Listen to me, Flower,” he said firmly, keeping a vice grip on her hands. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

A sob caught in Narcissa’s throat and he pulled her to him. “We can always try again,” he murmured softly.

There was a knock on the door. “Narcissa, darling,” a new voice called. “It’s your Aunt Walburga… I need to speak with you for a moment.”

Lucius looked down at Narcissa, who nodded shakily to let her in. He stood up and walked to the door, slowly a crack. “Why are you here?” Lucius asked coldly, stepping back to let her in before closing the door with a flick of his wand, and turning back to his wife.

“To give Narcissa support, of course,” Walburga replied immediately, watching him with her unnerving brown eyes. “I’m assuming your Father’s already done his death ritual?”

“Yes,” Lucius replied, his arm wrapping around Narcissa protectively as she flinched. She was distraught enough, she didn’t need her aunt stirring up more of her emotions.

“I was talking more about Cygnus,” Walburga said sharply, looking around the room. She seemed to pause for a moment before noticing something on the vanity.

“He believes so…” Narcissa mumbled. Lucius leaned closer to her, placing a kiss on her head.

“Druella’s teaching you last rites, I see,” Walburga commented, picking up what Lucius just now noticed to be a teacup. “I guess with all the hussle and bustle, no one thought to clear out the tea?”

“We had other priorities, Walburga,” Lucius said, deathly calm; his gaze hardening as the other woman seemed to be very casual about all of this. “And, I would rather focus on my wife rather than what she had to drink earlier.”

Walburga turned back toward the young couple shook her head. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your mourning…” her voice softened a bit as she gazed at her niece; curled up inside her husband’s embrace, her tears still flowing freely. “You have my condolences, Narcissa. Let us pray it never happens again.”

As the door closed again, Narcissa just buried her face into Lucius’s chest, her body curling into his; her hand clenching at his shirt as he continued to hold her. “You need to rest,” Lucius murmured, when her sobs finally subsided again; summoning Dobby. “Fetch Mistress a Draught of Dreamless Sleep.”

Dobby nodded, snapping his fingers to fetch the potion.

Narcissa shifted in Lucius’s arms, her hand going up to tenderly cup his cheek. He saw the desperate look in her eyes, and shook his head as she tried to kiss him. “No…” he said gently, putting a finger to her lips. “No… you’re not ready…”

“We need to try again…” Narcissa whimpered.

“We do,” Lucius murmured, stroking her hair. “But, not right now… tell me honestly… do you think you’d enjoy copulating right now?”

Narcissa hesitated, as if she were torn between giving him the truthful answer or a lie; then shook her head. “Everything hurts… but I… also feel empty…”

Lucius tightened his grip around her, pressing his forehead to hers. “We’ll try again… when you’re up to it…”

Dobby came back a moment later, placing the draught on the night stand, before disapparating again. Lucius reached for the potion. “Drink,” he murmured, opening up the phial.

Narcissa reluctantly took a gulp, groaning as her face contorted at the taste. Lucius placed the phial back on the nightstand. “Sleep, ‘Cissa,” Lucius murmured, caressing her arm. “Tomorrow we’ll bury our son.”