Chapter 3

A/N: Not mine, sadly, except for the sexy new spells... and Basil Parkinson, if only for the sheer amount of time it took me to come up with a "manly" plant for his name.

Gods above, thought Snape as he stalked moodily along the path back to Hogwarts, who'd have thought that Narcissa Malfoy would be so bloody damned difficult to draw away from her husband? Lucius the Death Eater, the convict, the husband she married purely for wealth and position... If one didn't know better, it would seem that she loves him.

A cold hand, like the joy-draining clutch of the Dementors, seized his heart. No, Narcissa couldn't possibly be in love. Not if the lust he had seen shimmering in her eyes through that blasted veil was any indication...

* * *

"Well, I think it would be a splendid match, Meredith." Narcissa took a sip of tea from one of Violet Parkinson's heirloom teacups. "Millicent and young Crabbe seem extraordinarily well-suited." If only because the both of them are so frightfully stupid...

Meredith Bulstrode gave a satisfied smile. "Yes, well, I should hope so. The children are sixteen. It's rather past time to start planning these things, is it not?"

"Indeed," Violet agreed, "Basil and I could not be more pleased about Pansy and Draco, Narcissa. I imagine you and Lucius must be... oh. Right." She took a rather large bite of scone to cover the awkward silence.

"It's all right, Violet, we all know he's in Azkaban," sighed Narcissa. "Draco has been rather reticent about the matter anyhow. I've half a mind to slip Veritaserum into his pumpkin juice just to hear what exactly he intends. Honestly, I never thought he would make a love match, rare as they are. Funny though, he's acting rather odd lately, asking questions about love and Merlin knows, I can't answer them... at least, well... "

"Narcissa, dear, are you quite all right?" Violet's eyes were filled with concern. "I do believe you're babbling."

"Oh... sorry."

"No, no. I should never have said... never have mentioned... well, you know. You've just seemed a bit rattled ever since our anniversary ball."

"Have I?" asked Narcissa cautiously. Gods, was Violet a Legilimens? "I don't know why that would be. Perhaps it's merely nerves. My Draco and I are to visit Azkaban tomorrow."

"Salazar's blood, I'd quite forgotten. I do apologize for my rudeness, Narcissa. Please, have another cup."

"No, thank you." Narcissa stood. "I believe I shall return to the manor for a Calming Draught. Thank you for having me, Violet. Good day, Meredith."

With the muted snap of her gloved fingers, Narcissa had Disapparated from the Parkinson's informal drawing room with the intent of reappearing safely on the front steps of Malfoy Manor.

"Owww... what in the name of Asclepius... " The sharp thorns of the rose branches bit into the delicate dove-grey silk of her afternoon dress and pierced the creamy skin beneath. "I must really be losing my touch."

"Ah, Narcissa Black, the very image of the girl who tumbled through the hedgerows." Snape peered down at her from the top step, curling his lips in derisive laughter. "Although, my pet, I must say you needn't resort to Apparition to find yourself on top of me."

"Ohhh... Serpensortia!" Narcissa moaned as she launched a fearsome cobra snake directly at Snape's genital region.

With a flick of his wand, the man had reduced the offending serpent to ash. "A mere viper? You insult my intelligence, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus, there's really nothing to insult." Narcissa twisted against the needle-sharp thorns that crisscrossed her arms with cuts. "Get me up, now!"

"I'd thought to say the same to you." Snape's eyes gleamed rakishly. "Oh, I'll get you out, Narcissa, but it will cost you. I believe that you Apparated atop me after all. Besides, it's quite convenient to have you imprisoned thus. I hadn't looked forward to another duel with such a delicate flower." Raising his wand, Snape's wolfish smile intensified. "Voluptanutrices!

"Ohhh... gods!" Narcissa forgot completely about the thorns digging into her flesh as a warm feeling stole over her breasts, making twin peaks of her nipples. "Severus... stop... "

"Don't like that one, sweeting? Very well, then. Diluentem."

The captive woman gave a strangled shriek as the warmth became wet and mimicked the feeling of lips and teeth covering her bosom. "What is this magic?" she asked weakly. "I've never heard any of these spells."

"You don't say?" Snape arranged his hawk-like features into an expression of mock-surprise. "So there are a few spells the great Lucius Malfoy hasn't mastered? Tsk... I don't think the Dark Lord would be pleased."

"Well I hardly think the Dark Lord is concerned about Lucius' ability to cast a breast-fondling spell!"

"Delictate Cunnum," said Snape conversationally, choosing to ignore Narcissa's remark.

She gasped, hips arching up from their prison among the tangled branches, hands heedlessly gripping the bases of the rosebushes as the feeling of fingers plying her softness crept up the skin of her inner thighs. "Stop this at once, Severus! Anyone could happen byyyy!" She finished with a strange scream as Snape moved his wand to mimic his touch. "Let me out!"

Disregarding the fact that she was behaving with absolutely no dignity, Narcissa began to squirm, clawing uselessly at the air in a pathetic attempt to free herself before Snape could continue his sensual onslaught. She grabbed for her own wand. "Crucio!" Unfortunately, her aim was wide, and a large grey squirrel collapsed to the ground squawking in agony. "Oh, fuck it."

"My, my, but you are damned difficult to satisfy, Narcissa. You leave me no choice. Mulierem Ecfutuo!"

The spell spread through Narcissa's limbs with alarming alacrity, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body, convulsing her, sending white-hot heat to her feminine core and forcing her to explode, tangling her hair in the roses as she flung it back in a wordless cry of ecstasy.

When she regained her sense of reality, Mrs. Malfoy raised her head slightly. "Get me out of this garden, you bloody bastard, or I'll have Lucius turn the Killing Curse on you."

"All the way from Azkaban? Salazar's sword, he's far more skilled a wizard than I'd feared! I must alert the Order at once!"

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Severus."

"Mother?" Draco sailed toward the steps on his treasured Nimbus 2001. "Professor Snape? What are you doing here?"

"Draco!"

"Er, sorry. I mean, what brings you to Malfoy Manor, sir?"

"I had some affairs to discuss with your mother," said Snape in irritation with a pointed glance to his captive, "however, nothing that concerns you."

"Oh...is it about Father? Are they letting him out?"

"Excuse me, gentlemen!" Narcissa's voice drifted up to them. "I believe I am still stuck in the rosebushes."

"How did you get down there?" Draco leaned over the heavy stone balustrade and peered down at his mother. "Are you hurt? I thought I heard someone screaming... "

"Apparition mishap. And yes, these razor sharp branches driving themselves into my tender skin hurt a great deal. Perhaps you ought to let me up now, Sever... Professor Snape?"

"Of course, my lady," he said with a sneer so subtle Draco did not detect it. "Mobilicorpus."

Narcissa drifted up from the ground and onto the porch. "There now, Severus, was that so very difficult?"

"Certainly not, Mrs. Malfoy," he replied, "or may I use your given name as well?"

"Oh, go right ahead. I know you've no trouble with being overly familiar."

"I am not the one who called you 'Severus.'"

"Why in the name of Salazar Slytherin would you call me 'Severus'?"

"Mother? Professor Snape?" Draco's eyes had been snapping back and forth as thought he were at a Quidditch match. "What's the matter?"

"Draco!" Snape and Narcissa simultaneously remembered the boy's presence.

"Nothing, darling, nothing at all. It's just that my, er, cuts sting a bit. Yes, that's it. Why don't you go and have Glaber fetch me a poultice?"

"Right, yes, preferably something with essence of bitterwort. It will take the edge off the pain," added Snape.

"All right. And...do you want a coat, Mother? Your dress is rather... er... not really there anymore." Draco blushed as he said this, dropping his gaze to the ground.

"My dress... what? Oh, gods above." She made a belated attempt to cover her partially exposed breasts and stomach with her still-bleeding arms. "Well, run along, Draco."

Her son dashed into the house without further delay, and Severus broke into another round of silent, mocking laughter. "If Lucius were here, he'd be in a right state. His lovely wife, the paragon of female virtue, standing on the front steps in a tattered rag of a dress... before her son and his Head of House!" Snape could barely contain his mirth.

"If Lucius was here this would never have happened at all! You wouldn't have come up to me at the masquerade; I doubt you'd have even been there, seeing as how you were to gather information on the plans for the imprisoned Death Eaters and all. No, Severus, it would never have been. And as I told you last week, it can't continue. It simply can't, no matter how many unsavory spells you may know."

"I shall defer to your good judgment, Mrs. Malfoy. For now, that is. It seems ridiculous to seduce you with Draco on his way back. But never fear, your bed will not stay empty for long. Have a pleasant evening, Narcissa. Give my regards to Lucius tomorrow. Enjoy your visit to Azkaban." Before Narcissa could respond in kind, Snape Disapparated, leaving her standing dumbly on the front steps of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

The stark tower of Azkaban rose high above the trees and stood out clearly against the high cliff that it occupied and the murky water that surrounded it, an unmistakable emblem of gloom and despair. Draco bit his lip and fiddled with the sleeves of his robe as the Malfoy carriage began to descend.

Laying a reassuring hand on her son's arm, Narcissa murmured softly, with a confidence she did not feel, "You don't have to go in, you know. Your father will understand."

Likely he wouldn't, and Draco knew that as well as she did. "No, Mother, he expects me, and I want to see him, truly I do. It's just, well, Azkaban."

"Well, he will certainly be glad to see you. Now come on, out you get. There's nothing to be afraid of; the Dementors have left. None of these guards can suck out one's soul."

Draco shuddered. "Thank the gods for that."

Narcissa and Draco passed through the heavy iron gate that protected the front entrance and gave their names to the wizard in charge, a gruff bear of a man by the name of Lucretius.

Lucretius grunted a direction at them and beckoned with his work-roughened hand. As he led them down the drafty, putrid-smelling corridor, the two Malfoys heard the piteous moans of prisoners from their darkened cells, the dripping of water down the craggy rock walls, and the chink of metal utensils upon the bars of the windows.

"Oh, sweet Merlin... " Narcissa whispered to herself as nausea threatened to overwhelm her.

Rolling his eyes, Lucretius gestured to a heavy wooden door. He was growing rather tired of showing around squeamish, gently-bred Death Eater wives and their spoiled children. When the door swung open, he disappeared down the corridor, leaving Narcissa and Draco to themselves.

Timidly, Mrs. Malfoy crossed the threshold into a cold, sparsely furnished room with doors lining three of the walls.

"Hello?" she quavered, "Lucius?"

A door on the far wall creaked open and out he strode, fine blond hair showing split ends, but still neatly queued back, black robes tattered, gloves less than intact, and leaning heavily on his serpent-topped cane.

"Father!" Draco flung himself at the man limping across the room, nearly knocking both of them to the floor.

Lucius' free arm slid around his son's shoulders, and neither father nor mother scolded the boy for lack of restraint.

However, Draco noticed his error almost immediately and pulled back from his father's embrace. "I'm sorry, sir. I forgot myself." He began to edge away, back toward his mother who was still rooted to her place near the door, but Lucius' cane appeared before him, blocking his way.

"Sit down, Draco." He looked into Draco's cold grey eyes with his own. "It's all right... this time. However, there will be no further emotional outbursts, is that clear?"

"Yes, Father." Draco hastily strode to an uncomfortable wooden chair next to the room's only table.

Lucius' eyes drifted back to the door where his wife still stood, quite on the edge of an emotional outburst herself.

"Hello, Lucius," she whispered, unable to trust her voice. "I... we... you... hello." Oh, lovely opening, you twit. I'm sure he's waited two long months to hear those very words from his treasured wife's lips.

The barest flicker of amusement drifted across Lucius' face before he spoke. "Narcissa. You look well."

I'd better do, the amount of time this hairstyle took, not to mention the cost of the bloody clothes... "Thank you, dear. Oh, and you as well," she lied too late.

"One needn't be a Legilimens to know that isn't true, Cissa," he said somewhat affably, "but it is an admirable sentiment nonetheless."

With a hesitant smile, she approached the man who had ceased attempting to limp toward her and wrapped her arms around his neck with considerably more care than Draco had, but Lucius surprised her by crushing her into his body, somewhat more gaunt than Narcissa remembered, and caressing her back with his unoccupied arm. Burying her face into hollow of his clavicle, she inhaled the musky scent of sandalwood, mint, and sage that still clung to him.

"Oh gods, Lucius," she whispered, "I've missed you so." Feeling Lucius stiffen in her embrace, she pulled back just as Draco had. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be overly emotional. Do forgive me." Without waiting to be told, she sat rigidly in the chair beside Draco's.

"Cissa? Cissa!" Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange burst forth from one of the doors, looking far sorrier than Narcissa had ever seen them.

"Bella!" she cried delightedly. "How lovely! How bloody stupid of them to put all the Death Eaters together!"

Bellatrix laughed delightedly. "Isn't it though? These Ministry oafs don't stand a chance."

"You seem in rather good spirits," remarked Narcissa carefully, "but perhaps you'd like a bit of this Invigoration Draught? You're looking a bit, er, wan."

With a chuckle, Rodolphus squeezed his sister-in-law's shoulder. "You always were a stickler for the proprieties, Cissy, but you might as well dispense with the tact. Gods, I'd swear you told poor old Lucius here that he's looking well."

Lucius glowered at his brother-in-law, who did not seem to care or even notice. "Speaking of proprieties, Rodolphus, you might greet your nephew. You as well, Bellatrix."

"Oh! So sorry, Draco, old chap. My but you're looking smart these days. Got a girlfriend, have you?"

"Hello, little Draco!" screeched Bella in her horribly patronizing baby-talk. "How are you and your charming friends? You got so big!"

With a glower that greatly resembled his father's, Draco kissed his aunt's cheek and shook his uncle's large, ruddy hand. "Hello, Aunt Bella, Uncle Rodolphus. I'm pleased to see you again," he mumbled.

"Well then," sneered Lucius, "Draco, you will go with your aunt and uncle. Narcissa, you will come with me."

Draco nodded. "Yes, sir." He was far too intelligent to protest, odious as the task may have been.

"Of course, Lucius." Narcissa rose from her seat with a face full of concern.

"Righto, Lucius, my boy. Perhaps we'll see what that devil Rabastan is up to... "

"Yes, do that," muttered Mr. Malfoy through gritted teeth. "Come along, Narcissa." Pulling her up from the chair by the wrist, Lucius dragged his wife into the room from which he had emerged and slammed the door.

"Lucius, what's the matter?" she asked fearfully, ignoring her husband's vice-like grip on her barely-healed arm.

"I may not be as talented as the blood traitor Severus Snape," he snarled, trapping her against the rough, slimy wall, "but I have some skill in Legilimency. And you, Narcissa, are going to tell me exactly what it is you're feeling so guilty about."