The Morning After
Lucius woke with a headache and no recollection of how exactly he’d come to be in his own bed. The last thing he clearly remembered was Rupert Giles hitting him while his children watched. Everything after that was a bit hazy. He supposed Draco must have gotten him home somehow.
“Narcissa?” he called.
No answer. Narcissa was either out, or in a righteous fury with him. Given the last thing he remembered, it could go either way, really.
Turning his head cautiously, he discovered a potion on the bedside table. Inspecting it, he found it was a headache remedy, concocted by the family healer. Frowning, he sat up cautiously, and when that didn’t make things significantly worse, he poured himself a measure of potion. Downing it in one gulp, he waited for the effects to kick in.
He didn’t try to rise from his bed until the pain in his head ceased. Then he rose, dressed himself, and decided it was time to ascertain just how bad situation was. But he could at least do it on a full stomach… He summoned one of the house elves and ordered breakfast.
Downstairs, in the dining room, his breakfast arrived accompanied by a note from his wife. Narcissa was taking the children shopping in Diagon Alley.
The children? Both of them? His daughter was here?
He abruptly stood up, deciding breakfast was overrated. He would have apparated, except his wife had clearly enchanted the note to make sure he read the entire thing. She knew him very well after twenty-five years of marriage.
“Lucius Abraxas Malfoy sit down this instant!”
Narcissa would never do anything as undignified as shriek, but whatever charm she’d used to amplify her voice took it into a register that was painful to human ears- particularly if those ears were attached to a wizard who had woken up with a splitting headache.
Lucius continued reading with pursed lips. He was under orders to remain in the Manor until Narcissa returned. At that point, his daughter would have a wand, his wife would have control of her temper, and they would all have a discussion.
In other words, his day was unlikely to improve.