Light in Oblivion [Narcissa/Lucius, Second Wizarding War]

Chapter Two: Resistance

"I apologize, Lady Malfoy, but there's nothing we can do. Minister's orders."

Narcissa hadn't bothered attempting to sleep. She'd known it would be useless to do so, and instead, she'd spent her time preparing to face the Aurors. She'd studied more than her fair share of Wizarding law and politics over the years, whether by choice or by accident as Lucius had ranted to her about work and its frustrations, and she'd believed she was prepared to argue her way out of whatever excuse the Ministry tried to give her. Instead, they'd refuted her assertions that they were holding Lucius illegally and told her Minister Fudge had far more important things to deal with in the wake of the Ministry invasion than dealing with her complaints.

Lucius had always told her Fudge was an idiot, and now she found herself agreeing wholeheartedly. Fudge had seemed incompetent before, and Narcissa had often been of the mind that in his position advising the Minister, Lucius had been more in charge of things than had the other man. She'd hoped that the time the two had spent together and the willingness Lucius had always shown to assist Fudge and donate to whatever cause the Minister wished him to support would be worth something when it came down to drawing lines of loyalty. Now, as she stood shivering through layers of clothing within the stone walls of the prison she'd taken a boat to reach, it was clear that she'd placed too much faith in the system. She would not make that mistake again.

"This is illegal," Narcissa asserted, glaring at the pair of Aurors blocking her path. "By our laws, until you've proven my husband guilty of something, you have no right to keep me from seeing him!"

"Minister Fudge believes this attack warrants an exception, considering your husband was in the company of several prisoners who escaped Azkaban recently after being convicted of some fairly heavy crimes. And, you know, wearing the robes of a Death Eater after breaking in to the bloody Ministry." The Auror watched her with narrowed eyes. Though he was at least half a foot taller than she, Narcissa returned his glare full-force and kept her chin raised in defiance.

"Regardless of what proof you think you have," she said, her voice cold, "it is not enough to give you permission to violate our rights or to speak to me in that way." She'd spent the morning arguing with low-level Ministry personnel and the afternoon talking her way through their ranks only to be denied an audience with Fudge and told to take up her grievance with the Auror Office. They'd only laughed at her, and so she'd made her way to Azkaban, planning to continue pestering whoever would listen until she made some sort of progress.

"I've tried telling you politely, but you insist on pressing the matter." The Auror folded his arms over his chest, taking a step toward his companion. "There's nothing I can do, and to be frank, considering the trouble your husband gave us getting here, I don't think I would even if I could. He's dangerous."

A vicious surge of pride and satisfaction swept through Narcissa at the idea of Lucius giving the Aurors difficulty. In her estimation, they more than deserved it, for what they'd done to him. Narcissa knew, deep down far enough that she was often able to convince herself that she didn't, that she couldn't deny the crimes Lucius had committed. She knew it was the Aurors' job to put a stop to dark magic, but that didn't give them the right to be unnecessarily antagonistic, and in all honesty, she didn't care that they were doing what they were paid to do. All she cared about at the moment was Lucius, and these people were keeping her from him, which was unacceptable.

Lucius was 'dangerous,' the Auror had said. Narcissa had half a mind to show the man 'dangerous,' if he said another word against her husband. She'd taken all she could stand from Bellatrix, and the stress of the situation combined with her lack of sleep and her agitation at herself for the way she'd acted the previous night had combined to utterly destroy her patience.