(no subject)
Date: July 25th
Time: Roughly 7am
Location: Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
Characters Involved: Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy
Rating: PG-13
The usual sleepy images danced before his eyes, strange scenes of a cracked garden wall, wrapped in green vines. A small hand gripped his, holding with unnatural tightness, the noise of a small child's cry. He tried to understand something, but he slipped into sleep before he could know what it was.
It seemed only moments since closing his eyes when they opened again. The room was dark, but even if the sun had risen before him it would have been. He bewtiched the windows of this room to keep out the light before he slept, disliking to be woken by morning light. Narcissa's even, quiet breathing told him she was still asleep. He slipped out of bed and quietly, found his black silk dressing gown by touch and left the room. A house elf skittered past as he opened the door, startled by his appearance. They had never quite appreciated Lucius' perchant for early mornings.
"Tea!" Lucius half-shouted down the hallway after the elf, suddenly remembering Narcissa was still sleeping.
He headed for the Library. The elfs would know his routine by now, straight to the library, select a book at random, then he would read until restlessness drove him out of the house or to wake Narcissa. He sat and sipped the tea, piping hot and waiting for him. The book was one of the Muggle books he had bought from London, a very scholarly depiction of their First World War.
Light filled the room without much ceremony, Lucius barely noticed. He placed down his book, deciding that he had drunk more than enough tea. He returned to the bedroom, casting a silencing spell on the door which had a distinct talent for emmiting loud creaks at such moments. Lucius setlled himself on the bed, looking towards the dark figure of Narcissa. He had excellent vision in the dark, but the room was almost pitch black. He whispered "lumos" a gentle light filling the area of the bed.
Narcissa looked soft, peaceful. He lay down, moving closer to wrap an arm around her. He remembered waking many times, years before to find Draco wrapped around his mother and smiling the way he smiled now. It would be a lie to say that neither of them looked any different, as much as he would have liked to be untouchable my age, but Lucius could say with complete honestly that his wife was as beautiful as the day they'd married.