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Reality is a nice place, but I wouldn't want to live there.
Monday, October 16th ~ Evening



Narcissa had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to speak with her husband about Draco. It was painfully apparent that was never going to happen, so she decided to bring the subject up after dinner. When he was hopefully at least slightly mellowed with food and drink.

"Lucius? Could I speak with you?"
 
 
 
 
 
 
Enjoying his brandy in front of the fire in the salon, Lucius looked up as Narcissa entered. "Of course, my dear. I would hope that a wife would not need an engraved invitation to speak to her husband whenever she wishes," he remarked, his lips quirking.

He gestured to the chair beside his with his glass.
Accepting a glass of wine from an elf, Narcissa sat down and took a sip before placing it on a low table.

"The subject however, is one that could become quite volatile," she advised before crossing her legs. "Draco and his abrupt departure a few weeks ago."
Lucius tightened his grip on the snifter, draining the last of the brandy and summoning the decanter from it's place. "Ah, yes. I was wondering when this subject would arise."

He filled the snifter and took another long drink. "There is little to discuss. Our son refuses to do his duty, preferring the life of a playboy. Cest le vie."
On the surface, Luicus' words would appear to the average person to be acceptance of the situation. Narcissa didn't fall for it in the slightest, but she could play along.

"I'm so glad to hear that you're not upset, Lucius. I do think the idea you're disappointed in him or that you would continue to press the issue is what has kept Draco from coming to dinner when I've asked. Luncheons are nice, but not quite the same thing."

Taking a sip of her wine, she asked, "Do you think you might be able to persuade him?"
He smirked lightly at her question, the double edge sword. Persuade him to do his duty? Lucius had no doubt he would succeed in that endeavour but that wasn't what she was asking.

"Perhaps it is time to bury the proverbial hatchet," he mused, a self satisfied smile on his face. "This family has been divided too many years to allow it to continue. I will have a word with Draco."

"As long as you're not planning on 'burying' that hatchet between his shoulder blades, husband, I approve. Draco is a Malfoy from the tip of his toes to the very last strand of hair on his head. You might not agree with that assessment, but he's very determined to live his own life, just as you were at his age," Narcissa said, taking great pride in pointing out that Lucius had never been one to let anyone dictate to him either. "Would you want him to bend so easily?"
Lucius frowned slightly at her, wondering when she'd became so diplomatic and annoyed that she was plying him with words that made sense. He'd never doubted her intelligence, it had simply been dismissed when she'd been more submissive. He supposed that in retrospect she never truly was submissive, that her focus had been on raising their son and that in itself kept her at home and out of his affairs.

He smiled reminiscently, remembering the way she'd put her foot down when Lucius wanted to send Draco to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. No, she'd never been submissive.

"No, wife. I have no intention of planting that hatchet in a harmful place," he chuckled. "Draco is young, and he has plenty of time to fulfill his duty," he smiled slyly, "if he so desires."

And even if he doesn't 'desire', he will