Written For:

- 2017 Drabbles: Dishevelled

Narcissa had never really been all that fond of Rodolphus, but she didn't dislike him. He was just the husband of her elder sister, the poor sap who would do absolutely anything for Bellatrix, and an acquaintance of Lucius's Death Eater circle. She didn't quite understand how Rodolphus evaded Azkaban after the war was over — Lucius didn't really tell her much, wanting to brush the negativity surrounding the Malfoy name right under the carpet. She supposed that like Lucius, he had managed to convince the Wizengamot that he had been a victim of the Imperius Curse, and avoided a jail sentence by having his wand snapped.

She didn't think much about him, until he showed up at the Malfoy Manor one day in the winter of 1998.

oOo

He was dishevelled and drunk. Normally the Lestrange brothers had been a proud pair, with sleek black hair and haughty good looks. They carried themselves with an air of authority and wore expensive clothes. The man who stood in front of Narcissa now was nothing like the Rodolphus that she had met at Bellatrix's wedding.

His face was partially covered by his overgrown beard, and his eyes were red—rimmed and empty. He stunk of beer and something stronger — whiskey, Narcissa supposed. His clothes were wet and dirty and he was barefoot. "Cissy," he murmured, his voice gruff and unrecognisable. The use of her old nickname made her wince and think of Bellatrix. "Can I stay with you and Lucius for a while?"

oOo

Lucius expressed his disgust in a series of heated whispers in the middle of the night. Having Bellatrix's husband in their house was as bad as having the Dark Lord there, he reasoned. But Narcissa refused to allow Lucius to throw him out. He was still her brother-in-law after all, regardless of his crimes.

Not to mention, Lucius's past wasn't exactly squeaky-clean. He had no right to judge Rodolphus. So Narcissa drew him a bath, made him a hot chocolate, and provided him with clean clothes. After instructing him to shave, wash and have his fill of dinner, he looked a lot more like the man he used to be.

But he was still a broken man. There was still a hollow, haunted look in his dark eyes. After a lot of probing over the dinner table, he finally broke down in front of Narcissa.

"I can't live without her," he whispered in a cracked voice. "Bellatrix gave me my purpose; she was my reason to live; she was the bane of my existence. I need her to survive. The last few months without her in my life has been torture."

Narcissa was slightly taken aback, though she kept her emotions void of her face. She had always known that Rodolphus was utterly adoring of Bellatrix. But she didn't think that his loyalty to her was relative to servitude. Not knowing what else to say or offer to him, she showed him to the guest bedroom and retired to her own chambers.

oOo

It took a few days of watching Rodolphus quietly for Narcissa to have an idea. She observed how he walked through the icy grounds daily, how he stared out at the dismal, white and grey landscape beyond the garden, how he sobbed himself to sleep each night. Bellatrix was never coming back, but he was never going to accept that while he still clung to her memory. He needed something else. He needed someone else.

oOo

Narcissa found what she was looking for in a Muggle rescue centre in South London. Lucius had snarled when he found out where she had been during the day, and turned his nose up even more at what Narcissa had in the basket — but Narcissa was past caring what her husband thought.

She walked through the snowy garden until she found Rodolphus sitting by an ivory waterfall near the back. He smiled at her in his usual manner; a smile that professed his gratitude for her hospitality, but didn't quite meet his eyes because he wasn't truly happy. He glanced curiously at the covered basket that Narcissa held in her hands. "What do you have there, Cissy?"

"A gift," Narcissa replied gently. "For you." She sat beside Rodolphus on the cold bench and lifted the basket onto her knee. "Just peer in. It's too cold for her out here."

Rodolphus raised an eyebrow. "Her?" Narcissa nodded, and pushed aside a flap of the blanket that covered the basket. Rodolphus leaned forward and peeked inside.

Curled up inside a small mound of blankets was a tiny, yellow-furred Golden Retriever puppy. She had a pink leather collar around her neck and she was snoring softly, releasing tiny, breathy whimpers with each snore.

"You got me a dog?" Rodolphus queried, but his voice had risen a few octaves. When he looked back at Narcissa, his eyes were twinkling and glittering with tears — but they weren't the same sad tears that she'd seen for the last few days. He put an arm around Narcissa's shoulders and pressed a wet kiss to her cheek.

"What do you want to name her?" Narcissa asked, standing up from the bench and leading Rodolphus inside. She wanted him to see the puppy playing in the house, eating and drinking, bounding around and getting to know her new owner.

Rodolphus looked back at the garden before they went back inside the manor. "Bella," he said quietly, smiling. "I'm going to name her Bella."