A/N: This was a gift fic for swtalmnd on InsaneJournal, who requested fic for one of her pieces of artwork. (let's see if I can mung the link so FFN won't eat it - swtalmnd insanejournal com 186629 html) Dark theme, character death, and Severus being genuinely, rather OOCly evil.

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What exactly was he offering her? Narcissa wasn't sure. The angle of the light in the room cast Severus' eyes deep into shadow, so there was even less to be read there than usual. She thought that the beginning, or end, of a smile might be quirking one corner of his mouth, but Severus often smirked to himself at private observations which didn't necessarily have anything to do with his current surroundings.

At the moment, his surroundings contained Narcissa, her newborn son, and a pear-shaped flask with sky-blue contents. The liquid luminesced faintly white, filling Severus' palm with pale bluish light.

"What is that, Severus?" Narcissa asked, rocking the child gently.

"A gift, with my felicitations, to celebrate the birth," he said in a low, calm voice.

"Clearly it is a gift. Don't try to be devious. What does it do?"

"If I reveal that to you, it will certainly spoil the effect."

"Is it for him or for me? I do nurse him, you know." Narcissa stroked her son's soft cheek.

"I imagined you might. I have taken that into account. It is for you."

"Is there anything I can say that will coax a straight answer out of you?"

Severus smiled a small, close-lipped smile. "Narcissa, how long have you known me?"

Narcissa sighed. "Very well; leave it on the table there."

Severus did so, then bowed towards Narcissa slightly, his hand on his chest. "Again, my congratulations; but I must be leaving."

"Mmm," Narcissa said as she nuzzled the baby's forehead. "All right. You will be at the public naming next week, won't you, Severus?"

"Only death would stop me."

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Little Eridanus Malfoy suddenly took ill and died one day before his naming. Two-year-old Draco was inconsolable, demanding in high-pitched screams to know what had happened to his baby brother.

Narcissa and Lucius had no answer for him. And as many times as they tried to conceive another child, they never succeeded.

Narcissa pitied her son and her husband, but she pitied herself far more.