Chapter Text
She's been craving apples for a while now. Not just any apple either, granny smiths, good for pastries and apple sauce and eating in general. Narcissa hums to herself as she checks on the pie in the oven; it's the first time she's stepped foot in the kitchen since she's been married but she really didn't want Dobby touching her apples.
"Cissa?" Lucius is at the door with a raised eyebrow and his traveling cloak draped over his arm, "I've been looking for you," her husband says as he strides into the room, "What are you doing?"
"Baking."
She reaches for him and he drops his expensive cloak carelessly onto the nearest chair to wrap his arms around her.
"Baking?"
"Apple pie"
"Apples again?"
She looks at him through her lashes and rests her chin on his chest. "I like apples."
Her gaze is strangely intense and Lucius feels as though he's missing vital information when she finally gives up the staring contest to giggle into his shoulder.
"Oh Lucius," she sighs. "I'm pregnant."