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The healer was optimistic about her condition this time around, but he’d been so with Carina as well, so Narcissa didn’t trust it. Lucius, true to form, had offered the healer a private contract to be available night and day, whenever Cissa needed him. There would be no family holidays or special events he couldn’t excuse himself from. The man had agreed to be at their beck and call and Narcissa was taking full advantage. She was two months along but already beginning to show. Her body was well used to the early stages of pregnancy by now, but this little one had made it further than some of her others. It was a cause for hope, the healer had informed her, but Cissa still wasn’t sure. She was already seeing the man every other week and his only concern thus far was that Narcissa was causing herself undue stress in worrying so much, and it was not healthy for the baby. She needed to relax. That was simple enough for him to say, seeing as how he would never understand the anguish of being a childless mother several times over and having to feel the little love inside literally being ripped from your toxic body. He couldn’t possibly understand, but she agreed to his advice regardless and left his office with a blank expression on her face.

She’d been approved for travel by Floo Network, though it was advised she refrained from apparition when at all possible and definitely not at all in the third trimester. Cissa doubted her new little love would last that long. Still, the safest means of travel was flying carriage and as the Malfoys had their own private carriage, it was Narcissa’s mode of choice. The carriage landed gently on the busy muggle street, completely unnoticed as the ignorant waifs strolled past, busying themselves with their own shopping and conversations. Narcissa paid them no mind except for her turned up nose as she passed them by and entered the Leaky Cauldron. The dark pub was noisy as it always was, but she spent very little time inside, moving straight on through to the back alley where she tapped her wand on a series of bricks. An archway opened before her and the bustling sounds of Diagon Alley sprang to life.

Shop after shop, Cissa passed them all at a leisurely pace, having a set destination in mind but feeling in no rush to return home straight away. Lucius was working today and she would rather be around strangers than be alone with her depressive thoughts and valid worries. Stopping at one of the little carts that lined the crooked alley, Cissa purchased herself a new necklace, a gold chain with a ruby pendant, a rune for happiness carved into it discretely. The merchant wrapped it in tissue paper and plopped it gingerly into a tiny bag, which Cissa held on her wrist like a purse as she continued on to her ultimate destination. Twilfitt and Tattings had a fine assortment of high-end clothing and Narcissa hoped a new dress would perk her spirits up a bit. She strolled through the shop, admiring a cloak here and robes there before becoming distracted by the most adorable tiny set of infant robes with matching booties that was peeking out from the child’s section as she passed. Cissa held the small outfit in her hands. Pale blue with patterned white dragons breathing glittering fire all across the fabric. The booties had tiny blue ribbons running around the ankles. She was practically entranced by the ensemble, completely losing herself as she turned it over in her hands, inspecting the stitching and beginning to daydream about what could be.

It was probably only a few seconds but the silence from her husband felt like an eternity had passed before he finally spoke. Cissa allowed him to take her hand in his and kiss the back. Ever the romantic. His reaction was completely forgivable as it had been something of the same when it was her turn to receiving the shocking news. The healer, having known of Cissa and Lucius’ troubles, was cautious as he informed her but there was still an air of joy in the man’s tone that made Narcissa initial thoughts turn her stomach. For years she’d dreamed of being a mother and yet as the news was shared with her the only thing going through her mind was ‘no, no, no, no, no.’ The healer was wrong, she was certain of it, but after forcing him to check the results again, Narcissa fell silent.

Congratulations were hardly in order. It felt as though her beloved was congratulating her impending death because it seemed the only outcome in their current situation. She was bound to loose this child just as she had lost all the ones before and, unable to cope, Narcissa would end herself. The alternative, which seemed almost unspeakable for a witch of her standing with aspirations of motherhood since the age of five, would certainly end with Lucius divorcing her and that too would lead Narcissa to take her life, because how could he possibly stay with her if she chose to abort his child? There was no outcome from this situation that warranted congratulatory words.

Her free hand wiped the tears from her cheek, her head still tilted toward the floor. How was she feeling? There was no possible way to answer such a question. “I-” The tears continued slowly and she sniffled as she wiped them away yet again. “I don’t- I-” Terrified. Nauseous. Devastated. Confused. Angry. Worried. Completely overwhelmed. How to pick just one when she felt literally every emotion under the sun except joy. “Scared,” she admitted finally, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so scared, Lucius.”

Expressions of worry and concern, for whom she didn’t know, crossed Lucius’ handsome face. Narcissa felt her stomach lurch, not for the first time today. After all they had been through in their relatively short time together, it was unfair of the fates to place this on them now when they were still regaining each other’s trust and affections. There were moments, though she tried to hide them, that Lucius’ touch still burned. That his voice still caused her pain, despite the words only being ones of affection and husbandly duty. His kiss was different though. It had a way of mending her wounds and when his lips pressed against her skin, his tongue trailed over her body, she felt heavenly and whole again. Those dangers were what brought them to this point this evening, and Narcissa waited until Lucius was seated before she began.

Closing the small gap between their bodies, Narcissa scooted closer on the sofa until their thighs touched. Her hands in his, she looked up into his warm, blue eyes and felt a swell of emotion rise up in her. “I’ve been to see the healer,” she started, slowly and precise were her words as she managed to keep her confidence up long enough to get the complete sentence out. Heart thumping wildly inside her chest, Cissa fell silent, working up the courage to continue. Her hands squeezed his tightly and her gaze fell to her lap. “I’m so scared, Lucius.” Her voice cracked as she admitted the thing that had been plaguing her since leaving the healer’s office. “I don’t know if I can do it all again.”

Her gaze was set steady on her dressing gown, the sheer fabric doing nothing to hide her thin legs and the faint lines that had developed on her thighs as their daughter had grown inside of her. Those little lines and a marble stone were all that Narcissa had left of Carina. What if this child followed his sister’s example? What if Narcissa couldn’t bring him to term? The odds were not in their favor. It was enough to cause Narcissa to think the darkest of thoughts, to ask questions a good pureblooded wife would never ask her healer. She had longed to be a mother ever since she was a little girl but the thoughts her anxiety were creating threw her entire life’s plan out the window. Lucius would be furious if he ever found out but how could Cissa not confide in the one person that had never even considered betraying her trust? “He’s due in June, if he makes it.” Finally, Narcissa lifted her eyes, tears gently falling down her face, highlighting her cheekbones and making her blue eyes sparkle with a mesmerizing sadness. “If we want him.”

Her name on his lips was like fire spreading through her chest; it was warm and a tiny bit frightening. How long had it been since she’d said his name aloud? Several weeks, at least. She had no need to specify who she was speaking of on the rare occasions she spoke with her mother or sister about anything. Lucius was simply “he” and the baby, Carina, was “she”. When she spoke, they were the only topics of conversation. Sometimes Narcissa simply listened, especially as Bella lamented that Rodolphus couldn’t hold a candle to Lucius as far as doting husbands were concerned, but Cissa hadn’t much to say on that subject. Comparisons such as that one only led to tears and Bellatrix had only tried to cheer her up in such a fashion once or twice. She had always been a quick learner, her older sister.

Blue eyes stared down at the bleary face of the man she loved. She did love him, more than anything in the world. He was her only light in the darkness that had swallowed their fragile family and although it hurt her, she crept forward. Pressing her teeth into her lower lip to stave off a terrified quiver, Narcissa found his hand and leaned over to place her hand on it. Curling her fingers, she tightened her grip, asking silently for his strength. She wanted so badly to be with him again. She felt weakened in his presence. Narcissa closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Anxious energy swelled in her chest. Her body was telling her to run, to retreat to the safety of her claimed chamber but instead she lifted her leg and climbed into the bed beside him.

In the early days of her self-imposed isolation, Lucius would knock and the door would go unanswered. She could hear him speak through the wood, telling her he loved her and wishing she would come back to bed. It was a long while before she could bring herself to open the door when he came each night. What he must have thought of her, of her cruelty towards him, was nothing more than her inability to cope with what was clearly not meant to be, but nevertheless she loved her husband and so after months of being unable to cross the room and open the door to him, Narcissa finally made a small step forward. She would turn the knob and pull the heavy door in towards her and stand there as Lucius tried to break through to her, but his efforts hurt too much for her to speak. She would stand there silently, sometimes still weeping, as Lucius kissed her cheek and bid her goodnight. They had come to a place where Narcissa could once again bear to look at her husband, the man she had let down time and time again, but she couldn’t move past her grief to a point where she could speak to him. She was stuck and unsure of how to deal with what was left of their lives.

Cygnus and Druella had been by only a few days ago to check in on their youngest daughter, but Narcissa’s father had never been one for dealing with emotional matters and had yelled at Narcissa for continuing to mope, as he called it, long after the child’s funeral. This tactic did not fair well with the fragile witch and Cygnus was ordered out of the room by his wife in a way that only a wife could order Cygnus Black around. Druella, though tenderness was not her forte, took a softer approach. Cissa confided that she felt she was losing Lucius to her depression but his touch only reminded her of their lost children and the pain she had caused their family.

Their children had all died inside of her. She was toxic. She was cursed.

Narcissa would never feel the joys of holding her sweet child in her arms. She would never know the strange sensation of nursing her infant, or teaching their baby to walk, or watching anxiously from the ground as their child kicked off on a broom for the first time. Every soft touch of Lucius’ hand or warmth of his lips on her skin was a painful reminder that not only had Merlin deemed her unfit to be a mother, but she had also unwittingly managed to murder her children simply by being the vessel in which they should have entered this world. How could she speak to her husband knowing she had single-handedly destroyed their family? She couldn’t, but Druella didn’t accept that as an answer. She encouraged her daughter to move toward their old life, even if it hurt. She had raised her children to withstand the pains of being a woman in a man’s world, surely Narcissa could manage the pains of faking harmony for the sake of her marriage. What woman didn’t, after all?

Our bedroom. It felt as though Lucius had chosen his words carefully, tonight just as every night before it. The room she was calling hers now was not her bedroom. Her place was with her husband. She knew it was and yet every night before this one when he explained he was retiring to “our bedroom” she nodded in acknowledgement and shut the door, separating them physically and emotionally. Their love wouldn’t survive this. Narcissa wouldn’t survive this.

Tired eyes looked up at the kind face of the man she had loved since she was a girl. She noted the sliver of hope that had been slowly diminishing from his face as she looked at him. Was there any hope left in his eyes? How long before Lucius stopped saying goodnight altogether? How long before he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble? The questions only helped Narcissa to sink further into her depression and had there been any way for her exhausted eyes to produce a tear she would have collapsed at his feet sobbing. Instead, she nodded solemnly. “Goodnight.”