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Seated in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa Malfoy sat with a half-empty glass in her hand and her lips stained a deep red.
The fire was crackling softly in front of her and a pale blue throw rug had been placed neatly over her lap. The room was quite a lot brighter than it had been during the war. The deep blue walls were strewn with large canvases depicting a variety of landscape scenes, all set in ornate golden frames.
One frame, just above the fireplace, held three very small figures in the bottom-right corner. They all had their backs turned as their attention was taken up by the sun setting over the sea. The sky was strewn with ribbons of pink and gold, and the still sea reflected them. They stood atop a cliff, surrounded by wildflowers. One of the figures was a man with platinum blond hair that rested just below his shoulders. He sported a white dress shirt and black slacks despite the informal setting, but held his shoes in his left hand, and stood barefoot, toes curling into the soft earth. To his right was a woman who came up to around his chin. She too, was dressed in clothing rather unsuitable for the hike they seemed to have been on, all except for the shoes, which had been kicked off to the side.
Between them stood a young boy. He shared the shocking blond hair of the man to his left but stood out as odd amongst the other two due to his plain wrinkled pink tee-shirt and sporting shorts. While most of the scene remained fairly stationary, the boy would occasionally turn around, waving with a grin to whichever onlooker happened to be present at the time.
Narcissa smiled as the tiny painted version of her grandson turned to face her for the third time this evening and gave a small wave back.
She and Lucius had taken him to the Margaret River Region in Australia as a gift for his 7th birthday. He’d always been a rather artistic child and had developed a love for painting wild colourful prints about six months earlier. They had taken him on that hike so that he might see some of his art come to life.
That was many years ago now, and her darling little boy was much more a man now. He hadn’t lost his love for art though and had developed quite a name for himself with multiple gallery showings in the past few years. Many of his works were considered very valuable, and at one point, Scorpius’ fiancé suggested that even his childhood scribbles would likely go for a few hundred galleons.
It was Lucius, surprisingly, who had vehemently dismissed the idea of ever putting the old drawings up for sale.
“They are grand! And deserve to be displayed grandly!” He had huffed and shaken his head firmly. “There is no place more appropriate for those artworks than where they are currently held.”
They were, of course, held at the Manor. Displayed proudly amongst all the other canvases, most though, had been hung up around Lucius’ study, and their bedroom.
She could recall with spectacular accuracy the first mounting of one of Scorpius’ artworks in the study. They’d been looking after him for the afternoon while Draco and his wife, Astoria, went out on a much-anticipated ‘adults-only’ date.
“Grandmother?” Scorpius had called uncertainly from where he sat at the large dining table. “Could I do some drawing after lunch?”
“Of course, Darling.” She’d replied with a smile, “We’ll do it together.”
They’d sat at that table for hours, surrounded by parchment and coloured pencils. Narcissa had barely felt the time pass by, only noticing the later hour when Lucius had arrived back from his mandated bi-weekly counselling session. The Ministry had been rather lenient in the aftermath of the war, all things considered, and had given him six-months in Azkaban, with five years house arrest and mandated counselling sessions twice a week for the foreseeable future. He’d not been happy about them originally, and still complained about their tediousness regularly, but Narcissa was glad to have her Husband with her in their home.
Narcissa looked up happily when she heard familiar click-clack of her husband’s sleek oxford shoes approach the dining room.
“My Goodness, we certainly haven’t left any parchment for the rest of society, have we?” he teased.
“Grandfather! Grandfather! Come look! Look at my drawings!”
Lucius had moved around the table to stand beside his bouncing grandson and peruse the colourful images with a view so serious, Narcissa had to stifle a laugh.
“Now, let’s see here.” Lucius started, arranging the parchment so that he could see all the drawings at once. There were nearly twenty.
“My, my, my, these are some of the most incredible works I’ve ever laid eyes on. Narcissa, have you seen these?” he asked, “Our grandson must be the greatest artist of his generation—every generation in fact!”
Scorpius gazed up at his grandfather with a look of pure adoration.
“Really?!!” He squealed excitedly.
“Certainly.” Lucius replied, picking up one depicting five humanoid figures and a light-yellow blob.
“I especially like this one. Tell me Scorpius, what have you drawn here?”
Small hands took the parchment and placed it back on the table to start explaining it properly.
“This is Mummy.” Scorpius said seriously, glancing between his grandparents and pointing at a stick-figure with brown hair.
“And this is Daddy.” He continued, moving to point at the figure next to it. Then in quick succession, he gestured to a figure with long blond hair, a figure with a mix of blond and brunette hair, and a very small stick figure with blond hair.
“And that’s Grandfather, and Grandmother, and me!” he said gleefully.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! And this is the peacock!!” He finished, pointing to the yellow blob in the corner.
“My goodness” Narcissa cried, “that is wonderful Scorpius, thank you for drawing all of us so nicely.”
“Indeed.” Said Lucius, picking up the drawing once again, “In fact, it is so wonderful that I believe I should like to mount it on the wall of my study, permanently. What do you think Scorpius?”
Little blue eyes got even wider, as a wide smile spread across the child’s face.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Can we do it now?” he pleaded, standing up in his chair and clasping his hands together.
Lucius chuckled and scooped Scorpius up in his arms, then offered a hand to his wife.
“Of course. Come along my Dear,” he said turning to Narcissa.
She linked her fingers through his as he led them up the east-wing staircase and round to his study.
This room had remained much darker toned than the rest of the house, which most attributed to her husband’s penchant for intimidation. Secretly, he just preferred the calm influence of mahogany wood and patterned brown wallpaper. The monotony of the room was tasteful and did not detract from his focus. Entering the room, you were faced with a large bookshelf that ran along the opposite wall, a small sitting area to your left and a large desk to your right, with a tall wing-backed chair on the far side of it, and two smaller chairs on the near side.
Scorpius squirmed in his grandfather’s arms as his head swivelled trying to find the perfect patch of wall to hang his drawing.
Placing the boy back on the floor, Lucius walked over to the sitting area and removed the rather large clock that had been hung in the middle of the wall.
“Oh Lucius! Be careful of your back for goodness sakes!” Narcissa cried, moving to lend a hand when the clock tilted dangerously as he put it down on the sofa.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He assured, waving her off. Then paused before sweeping her off the ground into his arms in a singular movement.
“Lucius!” She gasped, “Put me down!”
“Absolutely not, Witch!” He said with a smile. “You seem to be under the impression that I have become an invalid, and I refuse to allow you to harbour that notion any longer.”
“Scorpius!” Lucius called to the boy where he was sitting in Lucius’ chair, pretending to conduct a meeting. “Your grandmother believes I need help carrying a simple clock. Come over and tickle her until she apologises.”
“Ah! No!” Narcissa cried. Scorpius giggled and raced over to the couple.
“Don’t you dare Scorpius, or no more sweets before bedtime!”
“Do it Scorp, and you can have sweets whenever you want!”
The little boy wiggled his fingers over his grandmother’s socked feet and near her belly forcing shrieks and giggles from her mouth until she surrendered.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Narcissa laughed, “I promise to never help you lift anything ever again!”
Scorpius backed off proudly.
“Good.” Said Lucius, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and another to her nose as he set her feet gently back on the ground.
“Now, to mount the drawing in the grandest space this room has to offer.” Lucius turned to pick Scorpius back up.
“Place your masterpiece on the wall, and your grandmother will stick it in place.”
Scorpius brandished his artwork with a grin and slammed it into the wall with both hands.
“Right here!” he declared.
Narcissa waved her wand and touched it gently to the parchment, then nodded at Scorpius to take his hands away.
The trio backed up to stand behind the desk and test the view of the drawing.
“Perfect.” Lucius stated, “This way, when I’m meeting with someone incredibly frustrating, I can look past their head, see your drawing and it’ll remind me not to kill them.”
“Lucius!” Narcissa huffed, hitting his shoulder with the back of her hand.
“Don’t listen to your grandfather, darling” she said to Scorpius, “He likes to be silly sometimes.”
Scorpius didn’t respond, he was too busy grinning at having his picture hung on the wall.
Narcissa was swept away from her musings by a soft splash.
He husband stood above her, greyer than he was in her memories, pouring wine into her glass to top her up.
She smiled in thanks and took a sip, as he poured a glass for himself. He was dressed in black silk pyjamas, with a small L.M. embroidered on the breast pocket and had his hair tied back in a plait. How she loved him like this. Softer than anyone else was permitted to see, more comfortable and more genuine in her presence than anyone else’s. It was a gift and a privilege, and she treated it as such.
He moved to the old gramophone in the corner of the room and placed an old, familiar record on the plate.
Soft notes swum through the air as he moved back towards her with a smile, his hand outstretched.
“Would you do me the honour, my love?”
“I’d be delighted.” She said, standing to join him.
They swayed softly in the open space of the drawing room, each with a glass in hand and dressed for sleep.
“You are incredibly beautiful” Lucius said quietly. “Even more so than the first time we danced to this tune, do you remember?”
Narcissa smiled and tilted her head to look her husband in the eyes.
“How could I forget. You and I were trussed up like prize ponies, ready to be paraded around high society.”
Lucius hummed, “Hundreds of people in attendance, most of them courtesy invites forced upon us by our parents.”
“I was so nervous I could barely stop myself from shaking.” Narcissa laughed, “Oh, what a way to feel on your wedding day. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better for Scorpius.”
“I have no doubt.” Lucius said, resting his lips on the side of her head. “Truthfully though, I still cannot understand our grandson’s desire to tie himself to a Potter for the rest of his life.”
Narcissa huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes.
“We’ve been through this, Darling. There is no need to belabour the point.”
The fire died down to embers eventually, leaving only the moonlight to brighten the room, but the pair danced on. Wrapped in her husband’s embrace, Narcissa pressed a soft kiss to the side of his jaw.
“I do love you, you know?” She said, softly.
“And I love you, my Dear. Forever.”