What's The Story, Morning Glory?

[pureblood_wife]

Who: Narcissa, Severus (maybe Harry?)
When: Saturday, 11/1, mid-day
What: The phone rings. It's Snape-a-doodle.
Warning: N/A

An afternoon alone these days seemed quite possible, but oh so tiring. Narcissa had finally managed to calm herself down, taking a hot bath in the large claw-foot tub in the bathroom. Her silver-blond hair was tied up and held in

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[expotionmaster]

"Narcissa, it's Severus."

Even after a year, he still found speaking on the telephone odd. "I've been trying to reach you for days. Are you alright?" he asked.

[pureblood_wife]

Narcissa was rather shocked to hear her friend on the other end of the line. "I've been better," she told the man after a sigh. "I'm still here, but I'm fine." She then paused and crossed her legs comfortably in the bath, the back of her ankles sitting up on the rim of the tub head.

"Is there something you need?" There was a dash of worry in her voice, a pinch of hope. Cissa needed to become active again. She knew all this lazing around was bad for her, but she couldn't bring herself to go to work (and thusly was fired) nor could she manage to get out of the house. She was a wreck, one that was sad to look at. A proud woman had fallen to pieces. Why, Narcissa might as well have been put in Azkaban herself.

[expotionmaster]

Severus felt a pang of concern mixed with guilt. So much had been happening in his life, that he'd lost touch with Narcissa. And now here he was, calling her out of the blue to ask for help.

Her tone worried him.

"I called to invite you to dinner," he said, improvising a bit. Obviously, he'd been lax in regards to looking out for his friend and he wished to remedy the situation. "I'd like for you to get know Aiden if you'd like to come over."

[pureblood_wife]

The woman pondered over the invitation, eyes looking up at the corner where the wall to her right met the ceiling. She should go, and nodded as if Severus could see.

"When is it?" Narcissa asked simply. Unless he stated otherwise she would wear her usual clothes, no matter the occasion she was far to fancy anyway. Even out for a walk she had an expensive coat or glorious pumps. But she had already moved on in her mind to if she should bring the little boy a gift. Was he even a year old yet? She wasn't sure and promised herself to ask before the conversation was done.