Author's Note: This is the final chapter of this story. I want to thank everyone who reviewed and/or favorited, especially SmileSimplify (whose reviews often inspired me to take this story in certain directions) and 2sidedstoryteller29995 (whose constant reviews inspire me to keep on writing different stories about the Malfoys). This is the longest story I've ever written, and your reviews encouraged me to keep on writing.

Narcissa's eyes suddenly popped open.

She was quickly able to tell from the darkness of the room that it was still night.

Narcissa looked beside her. To her surprise, Lucius was not there.

She immediately began to look around the room. It did not take her long to spot her husband sitting beside the window.

"Lucius," Narcissa spoke.

Lucius turned his head at the sound of his wife's voice.

"Narcissa," he said simply.

Narcissa then noticed that Lucius's left sleeve was rolled up, exposing his faded Dark Mark.

Narcissa knew from personal experience that even if she had been sitting right next to her husband, his Dark Mark would have still been barely visible. It was almost as if it had never been there.

Now that the threat of Azkaban was no longer over Lucius's head, he had finally had the time to think about his master.

"You didn't make a mistake by not looking for him," Narcissa said.

This was not the first time they have had this conversation.

"He will return one day, and he will be angry at me for abandoning him," Lucius responded. "I'm worried that he will hurt you and Draco to get back at me."

"You were in his Inner Circle, and you provided him with valuable service," Narcissa returned. "If he wants to achieve victory, he will need people like you, and he knows that."

Narcissa did not touch on Lucius's concern for her and Draco. They had already had that conversation more than once.

"I should have done more," Lucius spoke, once again referring to searching for the Dark Lord.

"If you had done so, you might have ended up in Azkaban along with Bella," Narcissa responded, "and I would not have been able to bear that."

Lucius didn't say anything in response. He just turned his head to once again look out the window, looking down at his faded Dark Mark as he did so.

"Come back to bed, Lucius," Narcissa said gently. "I've missed having you beside me."

For several moments, Lucius did not move from his spot by the window. But then, he stood up and walked over to the bed as he slowly rolled his sleeve back down.

Narcissa grabbed for Lucius's hand.

She knew that it was going to take some time before she truly had her husband back. He had known the Dark Lord since he was a child. He couldn't be expected to get over the Dark Lord's disappearance overnight. It was only natural that his thoughts would be conflicted.

But Narcissa was determined not to lose her husband to the darkness ever again.

But what will happen when the Dark Lord does return, a voice spoke inside her head.

Narcissa tried to push that thought away. She didn't want to think about anything happening to Lucius. Yes, she still supported the Dark Lord's beliefs, but both her husband and her son were the most important things to her.

And Narcissa was determined to lose neither Lucius nor Draco to the Dark Lord's cause.

It had been about a year since Crouch had sentenced his own son to Azkaban for the rest of life, and in that year everything had changed. Crouch now spent more time at home than he did at work, especially after he had been demoted to the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He had tried to bring passion to his new position, but he had quickly been forced to admit to himself that he would never again have the same fire burning inside him that he once had.

"I'm dying," Mrs. Crouch said suddenly when they were eating dinner one night.

Crouch looked at his wife in shock for several moments. He knew that she was still upset over their son's imprisonment, but surely she couldn't possibly be dying because of that. Yes, she was pale and thin, but she had always been pale and thin. Yes, she was sad, but surely she wasn't sick.

"Come, I'll take you to St. Mungo's," Crouch finally said as he stood up and offered his wife his hand.

Mrs. Crouch did not take her husband's hand.

"I don't want to go to St. Mungo's," she said, her voice unusually firm.

"But if you're not feeling well-" Crouch began to say.

"The Healers cannot mend my heart," Mrs. Crouch interrupted.

Crouch looked at his wife for several moments before saying, "What do you want me to do for you then?"

"I want to visit our son in Azkaban," Mrs. Crouch answered.

"No," Crouch breathed. "I don't want you around those dementors ever again, especially if you aren't feeling well as it is."

He left unsaid that he feared such a visit would kill her.

"Please, do this as one last favor to me," Mrs. Crouch cried. "I don't have much life left, but our son does."

"No," Crouch snapped. "I won't do what you're suggesting. Our son made the decision to join the Death Eaters and to torture the Longbottoms. He must now live with the consequences of his actions."

"Please, he's just a boy," Mrs. Crouch pleaded. "And he's a good boy at heart. I know he is. Please, give him a chance to live the life that he deserves. Please, let me die for something."

Crouch tried to shake his head. What his wife wanted was wrong. What his wife wanted went against everything that he believed in.

But he did care about his wife.

And a part of him did still care about their son.

"Please," Mrs. Crouch begged.

Crouch looked at his wife for a long moment before finally saying, "All right. I'll do it. For you, I'll do it."