Chapter 4

A/N: The characters, obviously, belong to J.K. Rowling and not me, and the idea for Gilda Grindylow's Society Papers was shamelessly pilfered from the eminent Juila Quinn and her wily Lady Whistledown, so I suppose I don't own that either.

* * *

Narcissa shrank back against the filthy wall, not daring to meet the furious grey eyes that could discern her thoughts so accurately.

"G-guilty?" she ventured timidly, when his grasp became too strong to bear. "Whatever do you mean, Lucius?"

"Oh, you know precisely what I mean, Narcissa." Placing the serpent handle of his cane beneath her chin, he brought her gaze up to his own. "Don't make me delve any more deeply than I already have."

"Already have?" His wife's brows snapped together in irritation. "Is that the first thing you thought of when you saw me? Read Narcissa's thoughts to see if she's been having an affair?"

Lucius smirked. "An affair? Now we're getting somewhere. And with whom, pray tell? Anyone I know?"

"I never said I was... fine, Lucius. I am having an affair of sorts, but I... you see... "

"An affair of sorts?" Curling his lip, he narrowed his chilly eyes further still. "What exactly does an 'affair of sorts' entail, Narcissa? And, since you failed to answer me, with whom did you have this affair?"

"Severus Snape," she whispered with lowered head. "It was Severus Snape."

"The blood traitor, you say?" answered Lucius conversationally, releasing his grip on Narcissa's arms and stepping away from her.

"Yes! The blood traitor!" Narcissa sighed with relief. "Ghastly man, really. I've tried to be rid of him so many times... "

"I'm sure you have," he responded sardonically, "but allow me to imagine it... every time you try to bid him farewell he ensnares your foolish senses once again."

Squirming beneath her husband's mocking gaze, Narcissa studied the rough floor. "Lucius, please."

He said nothing at first, but merely limped the length of the small room and back again, running his fingers through his fine blond hair. Finally, gesturing to the narrow cot along the opposite wall, he commanded, "Sit."

Narcissa crossed the room in two steps and obediently lowered herself to the bed. Nervously, she twisted the pale gold velvet of her gown and forced herself to keep her gaze upon her husband. "You must know that it was never my intention to betray you, Lucius. Severus sought me out with the express intent of seducing me. He used... he used the strangest of spells on me."

With the force of a well-cast Patronus, he rounded on her. "Never your intention? And what were these 'strange spells' you speak of? The Imperius Curse? The Petrificus Charm?" When Narcissa shook her head, he continued, "Did I ever give you cause to betray me? Was I inattentive in bed? Did I bring scandal upon our house with indiscretions? Was I ever a poor husband to you?"

"No!" cried Narcissa, long-restrained tears forcing themselves onto her cheeks. "Never. You've always been a proper husband to me and a decent father to Draco. I made it clear to Severus that... "

"One of my oldest friends! Our son's Head of House!" Suddenly taken with a barely restrained fury, Lucius seized his wife's shoulder and hissed, "The shame of it, Narcissa, the shame! Do you realize... " He tightened his grip on her person. "Do you realize what a scandal this would cause if someone were to find out? Malfoy's wife fucking a blood traitor? Gods above, Narcissa, what goes through your idiotic mind?"

"Nothing, I don't know! Circe's wand, Lucius, I... I love you!" Almost immediately, Narcissa gasped, bringing her gloved fingertips up to her lips, realizing too late what she had said.

Pale eyes wide, he once again released his hold on Narcissa and sent his cane clattering to the floor. Few things in life were able to destroy Lucius Malfoy's composure so thoroughly, but his wife had caught him completely off guard. "Get out," he spat when he had regained his voice, "and do not presume to visit here henceforth."

Forgetting the shred of dignity that remained in her, Narcissa scrambled up from the cot and out the door, giving only the briefest of backward glances to her wrathful husband.

"Draco!" she called desperately when she had once again entered the common room. "Draco, we're going!" Seizing her son's slender forearm, she dragged him out of the room and back through the gloomy halls of Azkaban.

"But... but Mother!" he whined breathlessly even as he handed her up into the carriage. "Why did we leave so soon? I barely even spoke with Father. Are we going back?"

Ignoring her son's protests, Narcissa slumped into her soft velvet seat and buried her face in her hands. Oh gods, what have I done?

Draco's astonished gaze fixed upon the silent tears that slipped between his mother's fingers and left dark marks on the fabric of her dress. Never before had he seen his mother cry or, actually, display any strong emotion. "Was it seeing Father in Azkaban?"

No, actually it was more that he discovered my affair with your Potions master, and I then proceeded to blurt out my darkest secret to him. "Yes." Narcissa dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and began to collect herself. "Forgive me, darling, that was very undignified of me. Whatever was I thinking? Now, how was your visit with your aunt and uncle?"

"Fine," mumbled Draco, recalling the cheek-pinching and baby talk he'd endured from Aunt Bella and the winks from Uncle Rodolphus accompanied by queries as to whether he was "getting any" up at Hogwarts.

"I beg your pardon?" Even in her distress, Narcissa did not neglect her quest to make her son's life one unending etiquette lesson.

"It was lovely, Mother. Aunt Bellatrix and Uncle Rodolphus were most entertaining," he added with a hint of sarcasm that he never would have dared use had his mother been herself.

Narcissa nodded but did not respond further. Leaning her forehead against the cold glass of the window, she sat in silence for the rest of the journey, wondering just how she could have so thoroughly ruined two lives.

* * *

A week after the fiasco at Azkaban, Narcissa found herself struck with the overwhelming urge to talk to someone. However, she was completely at a loss for whom. No mother, no sisters available, not even any real friends, certainly not Draco, who had left for school anyhow... Indeed, the only person that came to mind was Snape, from whom she had heard nothing since that day in the rose garden. Resolutely, she took her quill from the writing desk, composed a short missive to the Potions master, crumpled it into a ball, and promptly tossed it into the fire. Gods, I sound like such an imbecile in writing.

Narcissa glanced again at the fireplace, covered with cold ash that the deplorably lazy house-elves had yet to dispose of. Of course! Floo powder! Messy, nauseating Floo powder... Pity one can't Apparate to Hogwarts. Taking a pinch of the stuff, Narcissa stepped onto the hearth, taking care to keep her rose silk skirts high above her ankles, and disappeared.

Spinning out of the green fire that danced over the stone, she spun out of the fireplace and into Snape's private chambers, into which the Potions master had only just entered.

"Ah, Madam Malfoy, what an unexpected pleasure," he drawled, smirking as she brushed ash from her fine gown. "Your visit to Azkaban was somewhat... less than satisfying, I trust?"

"It is terribly rude of me to stop by unannounced," began Narcissa, "but I've done something terrible... oh, gods, where do I begin? Lucius knows."

"Does he?" Snape seemed to take this information in stride. "Well, then I suppose he paid more attention to my Legilimency tutoring than he let on. But, Narcissa, forgive my boorishness, I've not even offered you a chair." Gesturing to a threadbare red velvet sofa, Snape sauntered over to a small sideboard. "A glass of mulled mead, perhaps? Rosmerta's finest, of course."

Ignoring the unattractive way it creased her forehead, Narcissa frowned. "Oh, well, yes, I suppose. But Severus, did you not hear me correctly? My husband knows that we... we... have formed an intimate connection."

In a complete departure from his usual persona, Snape threw his oily head back and laughed. "An intimate connection? Salazar's bones, I'd forgotten those ridiculous terms your set uses."

"Indeed." Stern disapproval was etched into Narcissa's features. "That would certainly explain your tendency to flaunt propriety. Do you realize how great a scandal this is? Ever since Andromeda was sorted into Gryffindor and then married that loathsome man, I've tried to escape the hiss of gossip. Now with Lucius in Azkaban, I can't even sit through a tea without enduring prying questions. Say that someone had seen us in the Three Broomsticks... "

"Funny that." Snape sat beside his paramour and took a sheet of newsprint from the inner pocket of his robes. "I confiscated this from Daphne Greengrass. Apparently, it's quite the thing these days."

Nearly tearing the thin page, she tore it out of his hands. "That's Gilda Grindylow's Society Papers!" With trembling hands, she perused the page of neat columns of carefully catalogued gossip concerning every aspect of wealthy pureblood life.

'An utter bore' is certainly, I should think, the term that most aptly describes the Zabini crush. Indeed, it is a wonder that guests did need to be Ennervated when the thing was finally through...

"I don't see anything. You bastard, trying to frighten me. The thing is... what I came here to tell you... "

"There." Severus tapped the bottom of the last column with a satisfied gleam in his black eyes. "Though I doubt it shall make as enjoyable reading for you, my sweet."

None other than This Author herself glimpsed the Queen of Propriety, a certain Mrs. M---- curled rather cozily in a dark corner of the Three Broomsticks with that irredeemable 'greasy-haired git' and Head of our favorite House, Professor S----. With her husband in Azkaban, the angel may be showing her human side at last in a bid for a bit of company...

"How dare the bloody woman!" cried Narcissa. "Spying upon me like that. Only a Hufflepuff couldn't figure out who she was talking about. Hmm, what Mrs. M---- has a husband in Azkaban?"

"And is rather too obsessed with society's strictures?" injected Snape.

"I can't believe you're being so flippant about all this. She might as well have forgone the dashes and written your name."

"Not necessarily. Perhaps you were, what was that... oh yes, 'curled cozily in a dark corner' with Pomona Sprout. She is a Head of House, is she not?"

Narcissa bit back a scream of frustration. "You don't understand, Severus. Lucius is going to be furious... moreso than he already is, if that's even possible." She moaned, downing the last of her mulled mead in one unladylike gulp. "The whole world shall know I've made a cuckold of him. He'll never forgive me, Draco will never forgive me. Whatever shall I do?"

Brushing his hand over the swell of her breast, Snape snaked an arm around Narcissa. "You surely don't think that no one else would have you," he purred and traced the shape of her ear with his tongue.

"No, Severus, we mustn't!"

He moved his hand to the low décolletage of her gown. "And why 'mustn't' we, Narcissa?"

"Lucius... " She shivered as Snape brushed the delicate fabric aside and found her nipple with his teeth. "You don't understand, Severus... I told him... oh, gods. I told him that I love him!"

"What?" barked Snape, abandoning his seduction. "Why on earth did you do that?" He felt the blood drain from his face before he could hide it.

Dragging her dress back into place, Narcissa looked at Snape with an expression of utter desolation. "He was so angry when he found out about us," she whispered, "so very, very angry. I've never seen him like that, not even when Potter lost us that house-elf or even when he lost the prophecy for the Dark Lord. I lost my head completely, I'm afraid, and blurted it out. Oh, he didn't look kindly upon that, I can assure you."

"No, I wouldn't suppose he would," murmured Snape thoughtfully, wondering what sort of idiot would scorn such a declaration from Narcissa Malfoy.

For what seemed like the thousandth time in one short week, tears began to creep down Narcissa's cheeks. "What an idiot I've been."

"Surely he knows you didn't mean it?" he queried, a touch hopefully.

"Oh, but I did." A look of surprise flickered in her watery eyes. "I just had it reasonably well-hidden until now. Not that it matters now. That dreadful Grindylow woman made sure of that. After he gets out of Azkaban... well, I don't know what will happen. Divorce would be more scandalous than everything else. We can't continue like this, I do know that. He is a Legilimens."

"I could teach you Occlumency." Snape handed her his black linen handkerchief.

"No." She drew herself up in the chair. "I must stop thinking about myself for a change. My poor Draco will be quite undone if he knows I've betrayed his beloved father. And as for Lucius, well, what more can I say? I'm a pureblood girl stupid enough to fall in love with her husband; I might as well try to mend the damage I've caused." Standing, Narcissa hastened toward the fireplace once again and took a pinch of Floo Powder. "I'm very sorry, Severus."

With a sigh, he followed her to the hearth. "I see your mind is quite made up, Mrs. Malfoy. But so, in fact, is mine." Leaning forward, he kissed her soundly until she disappeared, whirling in a flash of green fire.