Lucius Malfoy

Still, her bad mood followed her after work. She went out to the pub for a drink and came across quite the idiotic scene. “Is today national idiot’s day, or are there just a lot of them in Wizarding London?” She asked.

“Shouldn’t you be rotting in Mungo’s with the rest of your kind?” He sneered, glancing at his pocket watch. Despite Narcissa’s excitement to be elected on the infirmary’s chair board, Lucius rather hated the sight of sick beds and invalids. Though, the delightful sight of a battered mudblood and half-breed had put a spring in his step, not even a Greek goddess could convince him to sit in a hospital waiting room for her meeting to let out. “Run along then, you’re in my way.” 

Unceremoniously, a bark of a laugh escaped from the blonde’s lips. Though the moronic reporter had attempted to stir up more trouble than he was worth, Lu couldn’t help but rejoice in the almost cruel and unusual way the man’s sordid career had ended. Having no spine was one thing, but no soul? Merlin, what Malfoy wouldn’t give for public executions to be brought back to Azkaban. “I nearly forgot about that little cretin. What do they say…fifteen minutes of fame?” He grinned, his teeth sharp and almost canine. “I’m surprised to hear he’s still on your mind, Borgin. Thought you’d have more interesting plights to keep you occupied.” For anyone with a keen enough eye, one might remember that the reporter’s name had come up on nearly every absurd headline in the last decade–it just so happened that Purebloods were often given more real estate than any actual news. As lovely as their wedding ceremony had been, certainly covering the recent attacks would’ve been ink better spent. 

His chest puffed out slightly as he inhaled. Speaking of Narcissa, the siren had somehow managed to cut his habit down to half–if only on his preference for the comfort that she, rather than the rush of nicotine, could offer. “She’s undeniable.” He murmured, clicking the cigarette case closed and pushing it back into his coat pocket. “Even sent a gift basket to that shite journalist.” He stood up slightly, drawing a glass ashtray from the other side of the bar.  Lucius glanced sideways at the witch, unsurprised to see her visage wiped of any emotional candor. “Do you enjoy it?” He asked, his eyes flitting to her left forearm. “The work?” 

The shrug rose apathetically on her shoulders. She knew what the saying was, but she didn’t like to think much about what anyone said, the masses or not. “Such extreme changes of character always pique my interest.” The reporter had been a nuisance, certainly, but violent? It didn’t take a genius to see that something was wrong there, but, then again, the aurors were the ones on the case, and geniuses they were obviously not. The article the man had written about the potential of her involvement in her father’s accident had been pointing in the right direction, though, the actual ideas shared didn’t resemble much of what had actually transpired. It was funny how stupid the world around her was, unable to pick up on clues and cues. Reality. That’s why newspapers had always been more akin to fairytales than facts. “I’m not sure what plights you might be referring to. I tend not to bother with that of others if it can be helped.” Just as no one had been concerned with hers.

Batty’s eyes noticed the reaction to his wife’s name. The secrecy of their marriage and inability to wait hinted that there were feelings between them, assuming that Narcissa hadn’t fallen pregnant. From her last few encounters with the blonde, she was fairly certain the other hadn’t. Drinking would have been frowned upon if that were the case. “I would think so if she’s found my favor.” The dark haired witch lifted her drink, slightly shifting the ring on her pointer finger with her thumb to the side to chill the glass, before shifting it back into place. She was growing fond of the ring and wondered if she could mimic it’s abilities in other pieces. Modify it to produce a more deadly reaction with no evidence. “Did it have any flowers in it?” She’d noted Narcissa’s interest in the meaning of the blooms at the Ministry Gala. There was no indication that she saw where his eyes had drifted, other than her mirroring of the action. “I do. I’m quite suited for it, or it for me.”

He held back a sort of secretive smile. Though Narcissa may have a certain soft spot for the shop girl, he highly doubted his wife were to divulge the untraditional way they’d learned to communicate. Borgin was highly intelligent, sure, with an almost reptillian brain--so with a namesake so steeped in meaning it was an obvious jump. “I’d imagine flowers might be inappropriate.” He suggested, purposefully keeping his tone unmarred from any residual anger. Lucius only had one real regret in how he’d dealt with that dodgy little half-wit and it was that he hadn’t wrung the man’s neck himself. “If I remember correctly, she sent decent photos of our wedding--seeing as he’d lacked the skillset to gather any on his own.” 

It felt almost like whiplash, how quickly he could flit between the topics. Objectively speaking, there wasn’t enough time in the world to accurately speak about Narcissa’s brilliance and beauty. After all, even Helen of Troy was lauded centuries after her death as the face that launched a thousand ships and his wife was lovelier still. Lucius nodded disinterestedly and tugged at the hem of his left sleeve, wishing at once for the blonde in question to dart through the heavy doors and relieve them both of keeping up such riddles. “Some are suited and some are trained.” And, had he the option, Lucius wasn’t entirely sure he would’ve made the choice to be a...barrister. 

Lucius arched a brow but stifled a laugh with a long draw from his glass. “I’m not sure what you mean,” He echoed coyly, dabbing at his lips with a linen. The near cavernous hallway of the pub couldn’t seem to keep warmth inside, a shiver running over the heir each time the door opened. Merlin, they couldn’t have exerted the effort for a heating charm? “I don’t believe I’ve any enemies. Not formally,” The flash of his teeth was more akin to a wolf’s snarl than a grin. “Who could you be thinking of?” 

His light eyes scanned over the vacant stool between them, knowing well that neither would bridge the gap though certainly any conversation they could spare one another would be better said in a hushed tone. “My poker face isn’t decent enough for retail.” He suggested, tapping his nails along the dingy countertop. “I commend you; serving strangers wouldn’t suit most.” A lighter clicked open in one hand, the other extending a silver cigarette case toward the witch. “Narcissa seems to think you’ve quite the talent for it.”

Batty rolled her eyes at him, they fluttered slightly at the end in a frustration she had to feign. Lucius didn’t quite matter enough to frustrate her in any true sense. He didn’t really bother her, nor please her, if it weren’t for her newfound affection towards Narcissa, the young witch would consider herself fully indifferent to him. Social niceties and business were one thing, but she did both of those without bothering herself about others. “I was thinking of that reporter. Though, I heard he was in Auror custody after New Years, so it seems his work will be much less credible in the future.” She explained, partly because she wanted to see his reaction to the mention of the man that’d outed his marriage. He’d written about her father’s ‘accident’, which none seemed the wiser to expect her of having a hand in. If anything, she had been the young girl that had to take over his responsibilities while trying to finish her final year at Hogwarts. Then, Merlin forbid, the pureblood had to work instead of securing her place in society. She’d played the part well and maintained the shop that had been more of a home than the small estate where she’d resided.

A shrug found her shoulders, but little more than a twitch of her lips hinted at a reaction. “You don’t need one if your products are worthwhile.” She countered, though, the ability to access who could be swindled into the unworthwhile items was just as valuable. Was that really a poker face though? Batty was unsure if she’d ever lived without a mask of deceit on her features. “I did what I had to do. Isn’t that what we were raised for?” She asked, but waved off the cigarette. They, like alcohol, were only useful to her when it suited her socially, or for business, but she didn’t have a need to impress the blond in such a manner. “I enjoy Narcissa.” She stated, “If it weren’t the case, I wouldn’t have bothered to craft her gift, but rather, found something less personal to give her.” Like she had with his part of the wedding gift. If it weren’t for her ability to catalog things neatly in her mind, she likely wouldn’t have remembered what it was she’d given to him in the shadow of the custom accessory she’d bestowed on his wife. “However, she isn’t wrong. I grew up spending much time the shop, it’s only natural that I would be so well suited for the trade.” It wasn’t like she’d had a surviving mother to really see to her being so properly raised as the likes of the Sacred 28 families. Not that she belonged fully to them. If it hadn’t been for nannies, elves, and her own desire to be adaptable, she’d likely have the class of a common halfblood.

His chest puffed out slightly as he inhaled. Speaking of Narcissa, the siren had somehow managed to cut his habit down to half--if only on his preference for the comfort that she, rather than the rush of nicotine, could offer. “She’s undeniable.” He murmured, clicking the cigarette case closed and pushing it back into his coat pocket. “Even sent a gift basket to that shite journalist.” He stood up slightly, drawing a glass ashtray from the other side of the bar.  Lucius glanced sideways at the witch, unsurprised to see her visage wiped of any emotional candor. “Do you enjoy it?” He asked, his eyes flitting to her left forearm. “The work?” 

Lucius let out a soft hiss through his teeth. When he was off the clock, the very last thing he wanted to do was entertain the sordid plights of any blundering idiot–including his now extended family. Though unlike the other members of their line, Evan Rosier, couldn’t even boast being interesting. At the very least, Bellatrix was a ticking time bomb and Regulus had either evaded their master or been murdered month’s ago. What was Evan?  Not as cruel as he ought to be and not smart enough to get away with it. “I don’t mean your mummy’s, Rosier. Though I suspect you still rely on her to take care of you, seeing as no witch is dimwitted enough to become your bride.” 

Narcissa still may have held her cousins in high regard but Lu hadn’t quite inherited everything belonging to his personal siren. It wasn’t even that he held the mousy wizard in any real contempt so much as the fact that his unwelcome presence halted Lu’s ability to “run in” to a few local politicians on their way home from work. Merlin, he doubted Rosier would be able to comprehend the idea of making connections even if one explained the concept rather slowly. “It’s unkind of you to speak ill of my wife. Especially considering how much pity she still has for you.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t speaking ill of my cousin.  It’s not her fault that she ended up with…”     A lapdog...        “You.”    Evan had to laugh, the sheer arrogance and hypocrisy of someone like Lucius judging Evan for living in a family owned residence.  Not that he did live in it anymore, but that was better left unsaid. Infact, he had been supporting himself for the past month or so, but that money was a unofficial ministry wage…. again better left unsaid.    Managing a simple shrug, remained fairly unfazed on the surface anyway.  “Haven’t seen my mother in a week or so, unlike you I’m not joined at the hip to mummy and daddy.”

Rolling his eyes at the other, he almost wished that his uncle would choose this moment to walk in.  At least that would reduce Lucius to a snivelling little brown nosed prick and he wouldn’t have to listen to him hurl attempted jibs  anymore.   “Are you going to constantly spew unjustified and inaccurate insults all day or are you going to sit down?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and scoffed. “I’ll explain my presence here and I'll use small words so that you'll be sure to understand.” One pale hand gestured blithely at a booth occupied solely with a wooden reserved sign. “When the new Minister arrives, I’d like to make a decent impression. And that can hardly be done if I’m seen with someone as unkempt as you.” His light eyes darted quickly to glance at the nearest bar patron before he lowered his voice. “You may have His Mark, Rosier, but everyone knows you’re nothing more than a coward. Don’t think I didn’t notice your absence during the last raid. What, scared of a few mudbloods? Go on, you ask nicely, I’ll protect you.” 

“Why does it sound like you’ve already planned at least half of this event?” He laughed, tugging lightly on a blonde strand. Until their wedding, Lu had never been privy to planning of any kind–after all, events and floral arrangements were so typically women’s work. And yet, he could already picture yellow poppies and towering hyacinths adorning their flat’s parlor. Were palm leaves still in season anywhere? Ah, perhaps that was step too close to outright gloating. 

Though the heir had purged the constant surprise that came with Narcissa’s affection, the actual phrase I love you never failed to split his face evenly in to–a grin bursting from ear to ear. “I do not think you know how to be silly,” He said cheerfully, cupping a hand under his wife’s chin. “Playful, perhaps.” His gray eyes dipped downward, watching her hands tug invitingly at his cloak. “Cunning. Undeniable, even.” Lucius murmured, leaning in for a lingering kiss.  Physical intimacy had always been a been rote prior to Narcissa–whose presence now, he would’ve been content to simply bask in forever.  Just then, however, he wrapped his arms around the witch’s waist to close the marginal distance between them, looking at her like an artist might observe the loveliest sculpture in the entire world. 

♕

“I may have had a few thoughts as I waited here for you. And on my way over. And the moment I got the letter.” Her smile was wide as she let herself become wrapped up in her husband. The whole thing was a true win for both of them. It was only natural to throw a party for it. Her mother had a brave face throughout her elopement if only because her now in-laws found it romantic. This was another instance of Narcissa taking her fate into her own hands. “Cunning, yes. I was sorted into Slytherin for a reason. More than one, really. A mistake was not made that day.” 

After another kiss, she got up from her spot. “Come. I believe this has earned me a nice dinner and some shopping for new robes. I’m thinking Paris. We’ve only gone there twice together. That is far too little.” She tugged on his hand, not giving him much of a choice. She was very persuasive when she wanted to be. “We could get a few things for the party, too. It does need to be extravagant since I am to be co-social chair. It was their first offering to me.” The pride was obvious in her eyes. “This gathering needs to prove they did not make a mistake.” 

His eyes flickered delightedly over to the twee witch tugging at his wrist. Narcissa may have ruled every one of Lu’s passing thoughts, but the thought of her able to force him into anything was almost laughable. His lips quirked into grin, nodding despite many tasks he ought to have prioritized instead. “The only mistake was not having elected you ages ago.” He murmured, struggling to close his briefcase over the many pages inside. As the latchings clicked back together, Lucius caught his wife’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Tu me rends heureux.” 

Lucius snorted into his rocks glass. “This costs more than your flat, Rosier.”  He sneered, giving a halfhearted glance to the vagrant now at his side. For all the supposed vanity his new family supposedly kept, the boy could’ve at least managed to shave before escaping whatever sewer grate he’d slithered out of that morning. There was the metaphor, of course, of giving one’s house the middle finger but then there was just bringing embarrassment to one’s name. A shoddy Death Eater, a half-assed student, and likely a rubbish unmentionable. 

How such a clumsy thing had managed to leverage a surname along might have been commendable, but his disappearance during the last attacks hadn’t gone unnoticed. What? Had he come searching for Lucius for some hope of protection now that Narcissa bonded them through wedlock? “Perhaps you’d have better luck with something from a lower shelf.” 

It was honestly such a pain in the arse that Evan still had to keep up appearances, because he would rather hang out with Mulciber and his father for three days than spend half an hour talking to Lucius. What his aunt and uncle were thinking was beyond him, there were families with just a good name…… how glad he was that he was not a Black.  Forcing a conversation was one thing, but brown nosing a family like the Malfoys was not something Evan would relish or excel at.  

The smile on Evan’s lips didn’t falter, though a dry chuckle escaped from his mouth. As he turned to look at Lucius he was sorely tempted to ask him how it felt to be punched in the face by the cousin of his wife.  He had to bite his tongue of course, Evan was only privy to that information because Black told everyone within the ministry, and Moody had in turn told Evan. Being a double agent had some perks….He had known that Lucius had gotten into some bother, and with Sirius’s loud mouth it didn’t long to connect the dots…If only he could tell Sirius, he definitely wasn’t extremely fond of the bloke but he would shake his hand for that.  “Depends what flat you mean…”  He said lowly.  The only man who made Evans skin crawl more than Lucius was his own father, how easily Evan could have turned out like the man standing infront of him.  What a thought.  “Didn’t realise you drank alone? Thought my cousin had you on a tighter leash.”  Clicking his tongue against his teeth for a moment, as the barman slid over …. whatever it was.  Inspecting it for a second, he shook his head.  “Just give me my usual.”

Narcissa still may have held her cousins in high regard but Lu hadn’t quite inherited everything belonging to his personal siren. It wasn’t even that he held the mousy wizard in any real contempt so much as the fact that his unwelcome presence halted Lu’s ability to “run in” to a few local politicians on their way home from work. Merlin, he doubted Rosier would be able to comprehend the idea of making connections even if one explained the concept rather slowly. “It’s unkind of you to speak ill of my wife. Especially considering how much pity she still has for you.” 

Lucius nodded lazily, folding the parchment back into thirds and laying it on the desk. “And we’re no strangers to rumors here.” He grinned. On reputation and confidence alone, one might have expected Narcissa Malfoy to be a good seven or eight feet tall. There was still something so endearing, no matter how many hours he spent looking adoringly at her figure, in just how small the siren was. He came easily, gravitating more so than being pulled. After all, no man alive could boast escaping such an ethereal creature’s orbit. “I wonder how we ought to celebrate. What is the best way to be both petty and coy?” 

There was no doubt that, wherever she was, the Black family matriarch was fuming. Each of Druella’s daughters seemed to have found new and creative ways to give their mother a coronary, but at least Narcissa was brilliant enough to do so with grace “You give me too much credit,” He murmured, carding a hand through her golden tresses. “They are rapt with you, as everyone ought to be.” To anyone outside, the affection in Lu’s voice might have sounded out of place. After all, his secretary was lucky to get so much as a thank you. “I would’ve been a fool to sit through a long engagement just as they would’ve been to give your chair to any one else.” 

♕

“A party, I think. A nice dinner party. Formal, of course. We would need to invite the fellow board members and some members of society who should be there as well. And both our parents.” Her smile was genuine as she looked up adoringly at her husband. This was a true win for both of them. Socially the prize was obvious. But personally, they both knew what the prize was. Narcissa needed to prove to her mother that she was better than she had thought. There was no reason for her to think her reputation ruined. In fact, she was now in a better standing than ever. Between her new family and her current seat, it was better than it had ever been. 

“I give you the credit you are due. Every one of my ideas and plans you have gone along with. No matter how silly or reckless they might have been. We are a true match. It may not have started out that way but I do not think a better pair could have been made for either of us.” Her hands twisted in the fabric of Lucius’ robes. “I doubt anyone would have been as supportive as you during this interview process. And that was because you knew I wanted it. There was no motivation other than that.” Tugging just a bit, she pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. “I love you. So much.” 

Though the heir had purged the constant surprise that came with Narcissa’s affection, the actual phrase I love you never failed to split his face evenly in to--a grin bursting from ear to ear. “I do not think you know how to be silly,” He said cheerfully, cupping a hand under his wife’s chin. “Playful, perhaps.” His gray eyes dipped downward, watching her hands tug invitingly at his cloak. “Cunning. Undeniable, even.” Lucius murmured, leaning in for a lingering kiss.  Physical intimacy had always been a been rote prior to Narcissa--whose presence now, he would’ve been content to simply bask in forever.  Just then, however, he wrapped his arms around the witch’s waist to close the marginal distance between them, looking at her like an artist might observe the loveliest sculpture in the entire world. 

“Well…Make yourself comfortable,” Lucius drawled from the doorway. He leaned idly against the wood, a twin smile already tipping his lips at the sight of her. It was so rare that the barrister had a visitor prior to the winter hols that his secretary–a plump little witch with an affection for tabloids–had come to fetch him personally from the library stacks. 

The blonde kicked his office door shut with one leather heel, the wood snicking shut behind him. “If that grin of yours is anything to go on, I take it you made the board?” Lu dropped a kiss to his wife’s cheek before filching parchment from her hands.. Dear Mrs. Malfoy, it is our great pleasure to offer you a position on the St. Mungos…  His eyes sparkled with a deviant sort of pride, relishing in the steam that must’ve been shooting from Druella’s ears. “Congratulations, darling.” He murmured, lacing their fingers together. “You haven’t told your parents yet, have you? I’d love to see the look on your mother’s face.” 

Narcissa didn’t move from her spot when she heard her husband’s voice. It was strange that only a few months ago, they were practically strangers. And now here she was, wanting Lucius to be the first to know. The best part? He would be just as happy as she was. She let her legs fall as he came closer, sitting up properly in the chair. “I haven’t told them, no. But I am sure she knows by now. The only thing that goes around faster than pureblood gossip is a pureblood rumor.” 

She kissed his knuckles, eyes looking up at him from her spot on the chair. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Not just because of our name. Though I have no doubt that helped.” She stood up, still much shorter even with heels on. “Turns out a few of the voting members of the board were enraptured with our elopement. She moved to sit on the desk, pulling Lucius towards her as she spoke. “The fact that we cared for each other so much that we couldn’t wait….and that originally we hadn’t been a love match. Well, it was just like a love story come to life in front of them.” She smirked as she looked at Lucius. “We got the board spot. Us. Our story. Every single thing I was told would ostracize me from society has made me only climb higher. And to be praised for it? Mother will be beside herself.” 

There was no doubt that, wherever she was, the Black family matriarch was fuming. Each of Druella’s daughters seemed to have found new and creative ways to give their mother a coronary, but at least Narcissa was brilliant enough to do so with grace “You give me too much credit,” He murmured, carding a hand through her golden tresses. “They are rapt with you, as everyone ought to be.” To anyone outside, the affection in Lu’s voice might have sounded out of place. After all, his secretary was lucky to get so much as a thank you. “I would’ve been a fool to sit through a long engagement just as they would’ve been to give your chair to any one else.” 

“I’ll have whatever they’re having, it looks great.”

@mxrsmxrdrestarters​

How such a clumsy thing had managed to leverage a surname along might have been commendable, but his disappearance during the last attacks hadn’t gone unnoticed. What? Had he come searching for Lucius for some hope of protection now that Narcissa bonded them through wedlock? “Perhaps you’d have better luck with something from a lower shelf.” 

The blonde kicked his office door shut with one leather heel, the wood snicking shut behind him. “If that grin of yours is anything to go on, I take it you made the board?” Lu dropped a kiss to his wife’s cheek before filching parchment from her hands.. Dear Mrs. Malfoy, it is our great pleasure to offer you a position on the St. Mungos...  His eyes sparkled with a deviant sort of pride, relishing in the steam that must’ve been shooting from Druella’s ears. “Congratulations, darling.” He murmured, lacing their fingers together. “You haven’t told your parents yet, have you? I'd love to see the look on your mother's face.” 

“Are we friends?” Lucius murmured, the ice clinking against his glass as he drew it to his smirking mouth. Batty Borgin had been a deeply unstable little whelp as long as he’d known her. Though the witch’s unhindered impulses had always been…interesting to say the least. It was a rarity to be surprised at all by routine small talk, though one could never quite predict was covert barb would slip from Borgin’s silver tongue. “News to me.” 

He turned slightly toward the sea witch, half-expecting her pale hands to be curled around some new toy. After all, such a gorgon was unlikely to be found slumming it with the common rabble without a more sinister agenda. Well, at the very least, his nightcap was bound to come with a show.  “Care to sit? I’m sure it’s exhausting to stand on your cloven hooves all day.” 

“I’m not sure.” She shrugged nonchalantly, Narcissa, Batty thought, was what she’d define as a friend. Lucius was more of a tolerable acquaintance. Someone she didn’t mind doing business with and could handle a conversation with if the occasion arose. But, wasn’t it polite to pretend they were friends? If only for his wife’s sake? “An ancient proverb says that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, though, I’m not naive enough to believe such simplicity in the world.” As the bartender brought her drink, she took a sip. The familiar burn of the alcohol didn’t much please her.

A small smirk formed on her lips as she saw his eyes look for her newest accessory. Something she could play with in the midst of the sticky tables and loud patrons. “I’m already sitting.” She answered off-handedly, as if his presence was of little more importance to her than that of the stool she was perched on. And it was. “I like the work.” She opened her purse and pulled out a necklace, twisting the chain around her fingers, but not touching the pendant. “Always something new to play with.”

Lucius melted into Narcissa’s touch as easily as a spent dog. Had the newlyweds not been in public, he wasn’t even sure he could’ve held in the sigh swallowed by her lips. “You’re trying to bait me into spending the afternoon watching Madame Malkins do a fitting..” He accused, burying his nose into the dip of his wife’s collarbone. “Why bother? No one wants to see you dressed less than I do.” He was glad for more than one reason to be briefly obscured by the public’s scrutiny, not in the least for the wicked glance that clouded his eyes. “Perhaps if you relieve yourself of your stance on capital punishment, both our problems will be solved.” Certainly without the village idiot floundering about the office, the Lucius would’ve spent the last few missing hours curled around the blonde. His teeth scraped lightly over the curve of Narcissa’s shoulder, just on the edge of impropriety. “Does it comfort you at all to know there is never a moment I’m not thinking of you?” 

“Of course I am. You’ve been so busy lately I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.” She was exaggerating, sure. But the feeling was still there. “I may change my stance just to have you home more.” Her free hand moved to Lucius’ hair, fingers moving slowly through it. “I have to go get these robes. It’s for the lunch with the women on the council at St. Mungo’s. My mother’s been trying to get on that council for years. It would be quite the coup. It seems our last name holds more weight.” She knew if anyone wouldn’t judge her, it was Lucius. Her ambition didn’t end simply because she got married. “But I have no plans after the fitting. If you think you could stay away from work, I could be convinced to go somewhere nice for dinner.”

“Say more kind things.” Lucius whined, one finger curling over the soft edges of her bouquet. Though he’d spent the better part of his afternoon spitting and snarling into the thickheaded little dolt, all semblance of rage dissipated in his wife’s presence (compounded of course by the warm bite of fire whiskey.) “Have you ever met anyone so pea brained that they couldn’t even comprehend suggestion?” He added. The only thing worse than a moronic little whelp was one hiding under the Ministry’s skirts. Dawlish could use a good talking to, certainly, with the lit end of Lu’s wand–but at far greater cost than he was worth. He shook his head, tugging at the leg of her barstool. The wood scraped against the sticky floor as he drew Narcissa several necessary inches closer.  “Oh?” The irritation plaguing his expression quirked suddenly into a wolfish grin. “Been missing me, have you?” 

Narcissa wasn’t ever sure that she would be over just how much she cared for her husband. It was easy as breathing for her. “I think you look very handsome,” she said as she brought her free hand up to touch his robes. “These look quite smart. I think you should get them in a dark green, too.” She leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I have met people like that. I usually was able to ignore them in school. I am so sorry you are unable to ignore this one.” She nodded her head. “I miss you whenever you’re not around.” She ducked her head, watching his fingers move over her arm. “I know it’s silly but I do.”

Lucius took a long sip, the firewhiskey stinging his tongue as he mulled over the answer. The instinct to keep the minutiae of his work life tucked away in the office was a difficult one to quell. While his ancestors may have been successful socialites, the modern Malfoys tended to be purposefully furtive. Marriage, however blissful, was no cure-all for a life led by secrecy. “No chance of pulling me away from your side unless I’m in a body bag.” He joked, glancing gratefully at the bartender as a new glass was set down before him. Instead of reaching for it, however, his long fingers grazed interestedly over the ink of her forearm. He hummed appreciatively before allowing his shoulders to sag in the safety of Narcissa’s company. “This idiot Auror-in-training, Dawlish, apparently never learned how to fill out the paperwork for a search. I’ve been stuck editing the sod’s files for the last three days.” 

Narcissa knew her husband was not one to talk about his work. Truthfully, she wanted to know everything. She was all but certian Lucius would not object to her taking a job but she knew that was not her place. Maybe once all the little ones are at Hogwarts. She moved her arm closer to Lucius, smiling softly. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that, my love.” She knew it had to be frustrating. She couldn’t imagine how much paperwork that would be. “Have you spoken to him about it? Or a superior of his?” She let her other hand move to his knee. There was no chance of getting her arm away from her husband’s tracing. “I don’t want to see you stressed. Or have you away from home too much.” 

Lucius entire frame bloomed open at the sound of her voice. To put it bluntly, it had been a shit day, shit week, really, in the office. The aftermath of the attacks, had roused several moronic do-gooders into the conduction of blind-raids. Leading, of course, to an onslaught of appeals and lawsuits first trickling then pouring into his office with no reprieve. As if any of His followers would be daft enough to keep any gifts in their foyer. Hello.” He echoed boyishly, drawing her in for another kiss. “Stay,” Lu added, sliding his rocks class in front of the empty seat beside him. “Please. I’ll escort you there after.” Any excuse was decent reason to put off the thick stack of ludicrous complaints, but Narcissa was something else altogether, rather magnificently undeniable. 

The smile on her face grew wider as she kissed Lucius back. “If you insist.” She slipped her coat off as she ordered a glass of red wine from the barkeep. If she was going to sit and enjoy some time with her husband, she could enjoy a drink. “I always enjoy your company.” She carefully rolled the sleeves of her shirt up, knowing full well it was putting her tattoo on display. “Has it been a rough day? I know you have been quite busy. I feared I might have to eat dinner alone sometime soon.” 

@morsmordrestarters·

In attempting to guard itself both from the neurotic rush of its continuants and preemptively aiming to fend off another attack, the Ministry had forced many departments into overtime. Lucius, though typically prompt as far as paperwork went, was drowning in a vast sea of protection orders. Merlin, if every bint that had filed for an Auror escort actually got one, there would be no one left in the entire country to actually do their sodding jobs. The skin of his left forearm prickled at the thought. 

Still, as the barrister slid into the corner stool of the pub he let out an agitated sigh. Had the population of the Wizarding World somehow doubled since the winter holidays or did he simply lack the same patience for them that he used to? Work days that once flew by now needed to be coupled with a fire whiskey if only to make them bearable. Lucius heard the creak of another body sink into the seat beside him, and wrinkled his nose in weary chagrin. “I’m waiting for an associate.” He lied, not sparing a glance to his companion. “Well? Run along.” 

Narcissa had been planning to pick up her new robes but found her husband instead. Feeling playful, she decided not to announce her presence as she sat down. He didn’t look over before he spoke and she put on her best upset face. It really was terrible, even more so since she was around Lucius. “Well this associate and I will need to have some words if you would rather them be around.” She put her arm against the bar, propping her head up with her hand. “And I will need to write to the ministry. I do not want this associate working with you any longer.” Her faux outrage lasted only a moment longer before she leaned forward, kissing her husband softly. “Though if you truly need me to leave, I will. I was going to Madam Malkin’s and I couldn’t resist coming to say hello to you.”