All had not been going well at the Manor. Narcissa dearly hoped that her excessive drinking from before wouldn't cause her any problems. Though it was through drinking that her problem first became an issue. Rather, it wasn't her drinking that had been going on, but Lucius's.
It wasn't so bad that he liked to jump fences, really it wasn't. So long as he came back to her once in awhile. As it was, her loving, dutiful husband had been ignoring her of late and so she had taken matters into her own hands and had gotten him drunk. Very drunk. So drunk he couldn't tell if she was a man or a woman, just a pair of legs and somewhere nice and tight enough to place his cock. Narcissa could close her eyes and think her husband loved her then.
And then the Death Eater's Bar-B-Que came and she had been bragging to her friends about her condition when her husband came and pulled her away. There were times when she hated that man. Of course, he didn't know. She hadn't told him yet. Nor did Draco know. She preferred to keep it her little secret.
Yet, somehow Voldemort knew. Perhaps one of his followers had told her secret to him. It didn't matter how he knew, it was that he did know. She should be grateful, after all, the Dark Lord had left her alone for the time being. She had to get to her husband and out of the Manor. She wasn't safe around Voldemort even though he only treated her like a servant.
Perhaps he would take her to bed more often than her own damn husband did, she couldn't help thinking before banishing those thoughts away. Those were treacherous thoughts and Lucius just might kill her if he thought she would leave him for another.
Hypocritical bastard that he was.
Narcissa tossed her light hair back behind her shoulders, gazing into the mirror before her. She was beautiful, icy, and cruel. Traits Lucius had once loved about her. Now he spoke to her only to tell her that she was losing her touch. She would never let him know how much those words stung her and later on, she found that Lucius was more easy to deal with when he wasn't there. She had grown afraid of what he would say next. Not afraid of being hit, but afraid of being shut down. Lucius was possessed of an endless supply of insults designed to draw blood and grant him an opening of attack. When he had started using these attacks on her, she didn't know. She did know that she would rather hold her silence than risk his wrath.
Now she didn't know whose company she preferred. Her husbands or VOldemort's. As it was, Lucius had left her alone and Voldemort had arrived back in the Manor twenty minutes ago. He had confined himself in Lucius's study and was mumbling to himself. She could hear him pacing below and then stop. Her breath hitched as she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs towards her room.
A knock on the door. Why would he be so polite?