He watches her every move almost seemingly with one eye while the other refuses to break eye contact, but he finds that difficult and settles for just reading her expression. He doesn't object, holding her hands as he waits for the response to come and hardly realizing he's holding his breath.
But the longer Narcissa spoke, the tighter his grip on her hands became and he eventually shut his eyes so he could solely focus on what she was saying.
Unconditional love was something he was familiar with, yes, but to see it so prominently displayed and even beginning to imagine what Voldemort would have done to Narcissa if he found out she lied was deeply unsettling. In that moment something flares up in his chest, a raw sort of anger at his father for putting them all in this mess in the first place but he wrestles it back down.
"It was always love that was meant to destroy him, wasn't it?" He was familiar enough with the tale of Harry Potter, and over time away from the outside influences of his family he'd slowly put together all of the pieces. Arrogance always fell to love. It was the same with his family, after all. Proud though Lucius may be, he always bowed to Narcissa and gave in out of love for her. Why wouldn't the same thing apply on a different scale?
"…and it was always Father he seemed to destroy," he mused aloud, almost as an afterthought. He brushes that thought aside as he opens his eyes again. Funny, that is.
He knows he's not receiving all of the details and he knows better than to ask. That would come at a later time.
"We were all completely irrelevant to him. I realize that now, but Mother--" he stops short then.
'I hope to Merlin and god both that boy kills him when we get to the castle.'
She doesn't know. She doesn't know, and he does, and because it's Narcissa he can't even begin to hide the fact that he knows the precise outcome of everything. He no longer worries about alternate timelines or how things may change when he returns, but he now has to worry about how the world will view his mother for betraying the Dark Lord. He saw the effects that came from his father falling out of favor, and even if all of the Death Eaters are dead or in Azkaban--
--and again, his thought process stops short. He lets go of her hands then, simply staring at her for a moment before closing the gap and forcing his way into a hug. It doesn't occur to him that this is entirely inappropriate, not to mention probably uncomfortable physically for both of them, but there are too many things that are still uncertain factors.
'Never mind.'
"Okay," he mumbles into her shoulder, also knowing better than to obscure his speech in such a way. Reassurance first, more questions later.
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But the longer Narcissa spoke, the tighter his grip on her hands became and he eventually shut his eyes so he could solely focus on what she was saying.
Unconditional love was something he was familiar with, yes, but to see it so prominently displayed and even beginning to imagine what Voldemort would have done to Narcissa if he found out she lied was deeply unsettling. In that moment something flares up in his chest, a raw sort of anger at his father for putting them all in this mess in the first place but he wrestles it back down.
"It was always love that was meant to destroy him, wasn't it?" He was familiar enough with the tale of Harry Potter, and over time away from the outside influences of his family he'd slowly put together all of the pieces. Arrogance always fell to love. It was the same with his family, after all. Proud though Lucius may be, he always bowed to Narcissa and gave in out of love for her. Why wouldn't the same thing apply on a different scale?
"…and it was always Father he seemed to destroy," he mused aloud, almost as an afterthought. He brushes that thought aside as he opens his eyes again. Funny, that is.
He knows he's not receiving all of the details and he knows better than to ask. That would come at a later time.
"We were all completely irrelevant to him. I realize that now, but Mother--" he stops short then.
'I hope to Merlin and god both that boy kills him when we get to the castle.'
She doesn't know. She doesn't know, and he does, and because it's Narcissa he can't even begin to hide the fact that he knows the precise outcome of everything. He no longer worries about alternate timelines or how things may change when he returns, but he now has to worry about how the world will view his mother for betraying the Dark Lord. He saw the effects that came from his father falling out of favor, and even if all of the Death Eaters are dead or in Azkaban--
--and again, his thought process stops short. He lets go of her hands then, simply staring at her for a moment before closing the gap and forcing his way into a hug. It doesn't occur to him that this is entirely inappropriate, not to mention probably uncomfortable physically for both of them, but there are too many things that are still uncertain factors.
'Never mind.'
"Okay," he mumbles into her shoulder, also knowing better than to obscure his speech in such a way. Reassurance first, more questions later.