Chapter 2: Forgiveness

When Narcissa woke the next morning Lucius was nowhere to be found. She wondered briefly where he had gone before her memories hit with an iron blow.

Last night had been like a terrible dream. Hooded figures had come to the house, including her husband's friend Snape, and told her she was to come with them. They would not tell her why, only that it was important and she had no choice. She hadn't even had time to change out of her dressing gown before they ushered her outside and Apparated with her to a dark, sinister looking manor.

By the time she realized something was wrong it was too late. The Dark Lord – whom she had never seen up close before – had been waiting for her inside a cold, dimly lit chamber. She remembered the cold, horrifying face much too vividly for her liking. His presence alone was enough to make her start panicking, and she remembered asking for Lucius, fearing that she had been brought there because something had happened to him. The Dark Lord's cold, indifferent stare was her only answer, and she recalled Snape throwing a black cloak over her….

Narcissa stopped remembering then, knowing that continuing would be painful. She wasn't sure she wanted to face it yet, at least not until she was sure she could move again. Last night her muscles had been too unresponsive and weak for comfort.

She experimentally tried to lift a hand, and was relieved to find that it obeyed her, though it was shaky. She slowly sat up, wincing slightly at the soreness of her body. With some difficulty she arranged the pillows so that she could lean back against them, and her muscles sighed with relief when she relaxed once more.

Sitting up seemed to free her mind of the frightening haze it had been in when she first awoke, and she could now think clearly. She closed her eyes, trying to sort through what had happened and hoping that it would seem less dreadful now that she was rested. She was sorely disappointed.

As soon as her eyelids closed the terrible face of Lord Voldemort swam into her mind. Coming abruptly face to face with the Dark Lord was undoubtedly one of the most frightening things that had ever happened to her. His skin was so unnaturally pale, his features so warped and snake-like, and those blood red eyes seemed to radiate pure evil and bore into her very soul. His was a visage that would follow her into her nightmares.

She shuddered as the memory washed over her and opened her eyes again. Her richly decorated bedroom, flooded with morning light, contrasted so greatly with the scene of the night before that it seemed unreal. She even began to hope that it had all been a horrific nightmare. All she had to do was get out of bed and start the day, and she would realize that this was just another normal morning and her dreams had only briefly gotten the better of her. She would get up, dress, and go downstairs to have breakfast with Lucius before he kissed her goodbye and went to work at the Ministry….

Lucius.

Something dark clouded her mind again as she thought of her husband. For a moment she did not understand. He was the one who had taken her away from that dreadful place, he had soothed and comforted her, she had fallen asleep in his arms – and he had stood there and watched her writhe on the floor without lifting a finger to end it.

Narcissa's breath stopped abruptly as this memory hit her. She curled up into a ball on her side, hugging her stomach with her arms and trying not to cry. The pain had eclipsed everything else when it had been upon her, but in those brief moments of respite between curses she had seen Lucius standing not two feet away from her. His face had been a mask of horror, but he had been frozen in horror, watching her scream and writhe in agony but taking no action. He must have known how much she needed him then, but he had not even tried to go to her, and the memory made her shake with sobs as the tears spilled over. Narcissa did not care why Lord Voldemort had decided to torture her; she did not even care that it probably had something to do with her husband – all she knew was that Lucius had simply let it happen, and that hurt more than the Cruciatus Curse ever could.

Narcissa had not intended to fall asleep, but the next thing she knew soft footsteps on the bedroom carpet were breaking into her slumber. She did not open her eyes as she felt something being set on the end of the bed, making the mattress sink slightly with its weight. A warm hand touched her shoulder, and though the sensation was pleasant something made her recoil and shrink away. Now that she had experienced sleep again she found that she didn't like waking up. It was as if reality were a nightmare and sleep the only way to escape.

"Narcissa?"

The voice brought Narcissa to full consciousness, though she still would not open her eyes. She felt safe in the soft, familiar bed, and didn't want to ruin the feeling.

"Narcissa, I'm sorry to wake you, but I need to make sure you're alright."

Something in Lucius' voice nearly made Narcissa open her eyes. He sounded so anxious, as if he were almost pleading with her to wake up. She felt him sit down on the edge of the bed and the warm hand returned tentatively, moving gently up and down her arm. She suddenly felt like crying again.

"Please wake up," whispered Lucius, his voice beginning to break. He really was pleading with her now. Narcissa slowly opened her eyes, and it surprised her to see that he was crying. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him shed tears over anything, and she automatically reached out a hand to comfort him, momentarily forgetting the reason she had recoiled from his touch.

As soon as he saw Narcissa was awake, Lucius pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight she felt like he never intended to let go. She buried her face in his shoulder and time stood still as he embraced her, stroking her hair and murmuring soothingly in her ear. Narcissa simply could not believe that this was the same man who had allowed her to be tormented by Lord Voldemort – that man could never hold her like this.

"Oh, Narcissa, what have I done?" Lucius whispered after a few moments. He took her face in both his hands and looked straight into her eyes. "I will never let this happen again, do you hear me? Never!"

And she believed him. It was all written in his expression: he had wanted so dearly to go to her, but knew that doing so would only give the Dark Lord a reason to prolong her suffering. It had taken all of his willpower to stay in place, not even able to hold his wife in his arms until it was over. Her torment had been as painful for him to watch as it was for her to feel. She hugged him close once more to let him know she understood. In his arms it was hard to remember why she had ever doubted him.

When they broke apart they were both smiling, reassured by each other's embrace, and Lucius pulled the heavy tray he had set at the bottom of the bed toward them. Narcissa saw that it was full of food, and realized that she was very hungry. She hadn't eaten since last night, and it was now early afternoon.

"I think you should eat something," said Lucius, and Narcissa nodded. She picked up a fork and was about to stab a piece of sausage when her hand stopped in midair.

"Is something wrong, darling?" asked Lucius worriedly.

"No," said Narcissa, smiling happily and popping the sausage into her mouth. She had just realized that there was no sign of the Malfoys' house-elf Dobby anywhere. It looked like Lucius planned to take care of her all by himself.

Lucius insisted that Narcissa stay in bed the rest of the day, despite the fact that she was able to get up and walk around the room more or less steadily. She had already forgiven him for what had happened, but he seemed convinced that he didn't deserve it and did everything in his power to make her feel comfortable, happy, and loved. She raised no objections, but allowed him to care for her as he would, making sure to reassure him often that she didn't blame him for anything and she still loved him more than anything in the world.

Though she thought she deserved an explanation somewhere down the line, Narcissa hadn't yet asked her husband why she had been tortured in the first place. She had an idea, but didn't dare voice it for fear of making Lucius feel worse than he already did. He had been coming home in some strange states lately, especially after his meetings with the Dark Lord, and though he tried to act normal she was never fooled. Several months ago he had returned home so shaken that he nearly collapsed as soon as he was through the front door, and ever since then it had not been unusual for him to come home once or twice a month and completely withdraw from everything around him. She didn't know how to help him when he was in a mood like this, and he would never give her any explanation for what had happened to him. She had long suspected that he was being put under the Cruciatus Curse; Lord Voldemort was not known for his kindness and the war hadn't been going very well lately. It was entirely possible that last night she had been punished for something Lucius had done to upset the Dark Lord. But she put the thought out of her mind; even if it was true she knew it was not Lucius' fault and he never would have wished this upon her.

At the end of the day Narcissa had to practically beg Lucius to stop trying to take care of her and go to bed. She was sitting up against her pillows, reading an old book she had found on the bookshelf, when he entered the room carrying a bottle of purple liquid. Narcissa recognized it as a Dreamless Sleep Potion and set down her book, ready to insist that she didn't need it.

"Take this, Narcissa, it will help you sleep," Lucius said as he approached the bed, holding the bottle out to her. She gave him a gentle smile and set it pointedly on the bedside table.

"Lucius, I can get to sleep without any help, I promise."

"I don't want you to have any dreams," he said, and she knew exactly what kind of dreams he meant. She had to admit she didn't want to suffer any nightmares about what she had been through, but she knew she would have to face it sooner or later. She muttered something noncommittal about taking the potion in a little while when she was ready to go to sleep, though she wasn't sure if she really intended to or not.

"Are you sure you're comfortable?" Lucius asked for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

"Lucius, I swear, I'm as comfortable as I have been all afternoon."

"Narcissa, you were just put under the Cruciatus Curse not twenty-four hours ago." This was the first time he had specifically mentioned what had happened, and Narcissa gave him an anxious glance. He leaned down and affectionately caressed her face, moving his hand gently along her left cheekbone. "Believe me, I know what that feels like," he murmured. "I know you're not alright. You can't fool me, Narcissa –"

"Lucius, there's only one thing I want," she whispered, and his eyes immediately shone. She had barely asked him for anything all day, and she imagined he had felt somewhat useless. He had taken the day off from work at the Ministry and done nothing but try and take care of her, despite her insistence that she didn't need him to.

"What is it, my love?" he asked eagerly, and she smiled.

"You," she said softly, and she pressed her lips to his. He responded immediately, putting his arms around her and drawing her to him in a loving embrace that filled her entire being with pure, untainted bliss. In that moment there was nothing but the two of them, and Narcissa knew that no matter what happened, regardless of how much she had to suffer, she would stand by her husband until the end.

Half an hour later the purple potion sat untouched on their bedside table as Lucius and Narcissa drifted off into peaceful, dreamless sleep.