┌───── ･☆☽･ ─────┐ 𝕗𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝟙 𝟡 𝟡 𝟞 ━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━ "the longer we keep her here, the more danger she's in"
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Lucius sat at his desk in the darkness of his study, a glass of fire-whiskey in his hand (despite it barely being noon), his back to the door as he gazed out of the window that reflected the dreary spring weather that now surrounded them.
The flowers had slowly begun to blossom, though the weather remained cold. The winter frost still swept the elaborate greenery into a mist haze that early morning.
The faint sound of rain pitter-pattering on the glass might have been relaxing under other circumstances if his daughter wasn't ill.
Lucius' attention slowly returned to reality at the soft sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors, before stopping outside his study.
In an instant, the large wooden doors swung open. Lucius turned around in his seat, his eyes landing on the petite figure that wandered into the room, leaning against the nearest armchair.
"How is she this morning?" Lucius questioned, knowing Narcissa had barely left Rosalie's side since her arrival home.
Narcissa rubbed her temples in distress, "She's still barely eating . . . and Severus said she won't be returning to Hogwarts anytime soon if she doesn't start."
"Cissa, she'll be fine," Lucius reassured, though truly he didn't believe it himself. "Besides, Severus is doing everything in his power to help her recover."
Narcissa sent her husband a knowing look, "Have you heard anything since the breakout?" She worried there was nothing but bad news to follow; the absolute last thing she needed.
Lucius's face softened, attempting to ease his wife's nerves."You know there was always a possibility that she'd track us down. . ."
Life had already changed since the Dark Lord's return last year. . . and now with the Azkaban breakout just two months ago, Lucius feared for the survival of his family more than ever.
Narcissa moved towards her husband, leaning against his chestnut desk. "I know - she's my sister, Lucius."
Lucius looked up into his wife's ocean eyes, those that no longer truly matched Rosalie's due illness.
"They know the Ministry is watching our home, awaiting their arrival." He remarked vaguely, knowing that even if they showed up, his wards were impeccably tight - even stronger since Rosalie returned home.
