Chapter Text
5 June 1981
Narcissa clutched Draco to her chest while she lit the candle and prayed.
She didn’t really believe in any god – neither the old ones nor the new – but today she would seek help from any quarter, and she knew she had to cover her bases and ask.
The quadripartite vaulting soared overhead, and the late afternoon sun poured through the lancet windows, decorating the stone floor in jewel tones from the stained glass above. It was beautiful, peaceful, and Narcissa was pleased that there were few tourists to disturb her thoughts that afternoon.
“God give me strength,” she murmured. “And protect Draco, please.”
The wizarding world’s relationship with God was an odd one, to be sure. Before the Statute of Secrecy sent their community into hiding for good, wizards and muggles mixed openly and religion was central to their lives. To this day, many wizards celebrated Christmas and Easter with gifts and feasts. There were even Christian churches located in several of the wizarding-only communities such as Godric’s Hollow, and the muggle St. Nicholas was deeply popular with children.
But some wizards kept the old ways and preferred to celebrate Yule and the Spring Equinox, making use of the Iron Age structures that still stood on top of the ancient ley lines of magic that ran through England. And still others – like the Blacks – had always observed both traditions. It was convenient that many of the Christian holidays had been intentionally arranged to overlap with the ancient ones, and depending on which Minister of Magic was in power at any given time, religions had a tendency to go in and out of fashion among those who were not true believers.
In the case of Salisbury Cathedral, which was originally built on Malfoy lands at Old Sarum, Armand Malfoy helped fund the construction of the church in thanks for the gift of land from William the Conqueror. Unlike Malfoy Manor, it was not warded against muggles, but was instead a place where muggle and magical folk used to mix. The cathedral stood in that place at Old Sarum for a couple hundred years until infighting between wizards – including the Malfoys – and the muggles in Salisbury came to a head, and the muggles rebuilt Salisbury Cathedral several miles away, in the place where Narcissa now stood.
Lucius hated this place because he viewed it as a snub to his family, albeit one that was nearly eight hundred years old. And since Wiltshire was also home to some of the finest surviving henges in England, he preferred to align himself with the old ways, though he had never stopped Narcissa from celebrating Christmas and Easter too.
As for Narcissa, she had married in and so she did not feel insulted by the rebuilding of Salisbury Cathedral. On the contrary, she found it peaceful and beautiful and a place where she could reflect on her failures as a mother.
She had many, though she suspected that her biggest failure to date would be taking place that evening.
Narcissa made her usual circuit down the nave to the crossing, where she visited the north transept first and then the south. From there she walked through the choir and headed toward the Lady Chapel on the other end of the presbytery, and then she retraced her steps until she was back at the entrance. By now, Draco had fallen asleep in the small sling she wore, and she kissed his fair head.
It was his first birthday today, but she could still get him to nap by pressing him against her chest and going on a walk.
She exited out toward the large, sweeping lawn that graced the front of the cathedral and shielded her eyes against the sun. There were families lounging on the grass and children chasing each other while squealing with glee.
Narcissa’s heart clenched to see it.
She hoped the Dark Lord would stay away from her adopted home. Wiltshire may not be hers, but Salisbury was. She had ventured into this place soon after her marriage to Lucius, and she had fallen in love with the quaint city, where she could be anonymous and not Narcissa Black Malfoy. She knew Lucius did not approve of it, but it was a compromise she forced early on in their relationship. He would ignore her trips to Salisbury, and she would ignore his less savory missions from the Dark Lord.
It had worked well for a time, but the Dark Lord was growing ever stronger. His attention was now on her son, and she did not think that she could keep an entire city safe if she couldn’t even manage it for her own child.
She sighed as she moved to the side of the building to apparate, and paused.
“You again?”
The large, stray dog that liked to roam the streets of Salisbury was looking up at her expectantly. He was enormous, with black fur and very blue eyes. She did not see him every time she visited Salisbury, but it was frequent. He seemed to live in the bushes near the cathedral, though she had also encountered him on the street near the shops a few times. Twice he had even wandered into the Malfoy gardens on the edge of Old Sarum, begging for scraps.
Evidently the wards did not make Malfoy Manor invisible to animals.
She was not a great lover of animals herself, but Draco squealed with delight every time he saw the dog, and the dog always seemed to smile back in the way that only dogs could. He was quite gentle with the baby, so Narcissa had long ago accepted the dog’s occasional presence during her visits.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any food for you, today,” she said, giving the dog a scratch behind the ears. “I’m afraid I’m here on rather serious business. I actually felt the need to pray, if you can believe it.”
The dog looked oddly forlorn, and Narcissa just sighed. She was so unhappy about the thing that was coming she was now projecting her feelings about it onto the dog for heaven’s sake.
“I’m sure one of the families on the lawn will share their picnic with you,” she said. “I must be going to Avebury now. I have to cover all of my bases.”
She gave the dog one last pat and then closed her eyes to apparete to her next destination.
She braced Draco against her chest and turned on the spot, materializing a moment later behind a hulking stone. She stood rooted in place for a moment, but then breathed a sigh of relief when she confirmed that Draco had slept through it. The squeeze of apparition was uncomfortable for babies, but she had done it so many times that Draco had grown accustomed to it. Still, it was always a risk to attempt side-along apparition while he napped.
But he was still there, head against her heart, making sleepy sounds that caused Narcissa’s mouth to lift in a smile, despite the thing that was coming that night.
She kissed the top of his head once more and began to walk the large circle of stones, murmuring prayers to the old gods as she did it.
She had considered going to Stonehenge for this – after all, it was the pride of Wiltshire – but she chose Avebury instead because it was far larger, far less famous, and it would require no magic from her at all to approach the stones in front of muggles in order to touch them and offer prayers. Indeed, ahead of her she could see several muggles doing rubbings of the stones and stroking them curiously. But other than a very small number of tourists, she was alone as she walked the circuit.
Avebury contained nearly a hundred stones and was one of the largest circles in the world. The ley lines for Malfoy Manor ran underneath it and Stonehenge, and Narcissa knew that both sites helped power the magic that flowed through its halls and helped enhance its wards.
The proximity of these ancient sites to her husband’s home had always been a source of great pride for Lucius, but that pride transformed into caution once the Dark Lord took note of it. His visits to the Manor had become more frequent ever since he learned this odd fact about the Manor, and while it honored the Malfoys to host him, Narcissa feared that soon he would ask to become a permanent guest in their home.
She hugged Draco a bit tighter at the thought as she completed the full circuit of stones, which took nearly an hour.
As she approached the final stretch, a dark-haired man stepped out from behind one of the stones, and Narcissa jumped in surprise before narrowing her eyes.
“Sirius. What are you doing here?”
Sirius’s handsome face was grim, and his eyes flashed as he looked down at her son, still asleep in his sling.
“Don’t do it, Narcissa.”
“Don’t do what?” she clipped.
Sirius gave her that look – the one that silently chided her for telling such an obvious lie – and she flushed.
“I’m not sure how you even know about it,” she declared.
“I know about it because Regulus knew about it, and it was the last thing he asked of me before he died. He said that if he wasn’t here to stop you, then I had to do it.”
Narcissa’s eyes widened, and she observed her cousin’s face. He tried to hide his devastation for his little brother, but Narcissa knew that it had broken Sirius to learn that Regulus died while fleeing the Dark Lord’s service. She could see it in his posture, in that familiar defiance.
Of course she could see it, she had known Sirius for her entire life, though their relationship had always been a little strained.
“Regulus was just a boy,” she said. “He didn’t understand.”
“He understood enough!” insisted Sirius. “He understood enough to see that he was in too deep! And when he tried to escape that monster your husband calls his master… ”
Sirius trailed off, choking on his grief.
Narcissa buried her own grief deep into the recesses of her mind, just as her father had taught her. It made her appear cold, she knew, but she could not allow Sirius to dissuade her. It would be safer for Draco if she cooperated this time. She could not escape from this nightmare, not anymore, and she allowed her jealousy of Sirius and the fact that he had escaped show on her face.
Sirius’s eyes widened.
“I have one priority now,” she hissed, “and that is my son. I cannot stop it, Sirius, no matter what you and James Potter may believe. This is my lot, and it is Draco’s lot, and we are safest when we follow orders! We must bend so that we are overlooked! It is the only way!”
Sirius strode toward her and gripped her by the arm.
“Flee with me, Cissy. James and I can hide you. Dumbledore can hide you. We can raise Draco alongside Harry. They are just weeks apart in age, and they will be best friends – practically brothers! Your husband and his master will never find you! You won’t be alone!”
Bitterness and resentment welled up inside of her, and she didn’t try to hide it this time.
“I have been alone for years,” she spat. “When we were children, it was always Andromeda and Bellatrix together and you and Regulus, while I was on the outside. And then at Hogwarts, Andromeda and Bellatrix were still together while you took up with James Potter. And when Regulus came along, he poached my only friend, and I was alone again.”
“Snivellus has never been your friend,” growled Sirius.
“Severus was the only friend I had until Regulus distracted him with flattery and attention! And after Lily did what she did–”
“Chose James, you mean,” supplied Sirius.
“No, rejected Severus, he grew distant from everyone! And that distance has become much worse since the Prophecy! Oh don’t look at me like that, it’s an open secret on both sides.”
“Cissy–” he started, but Narcissa wasn’t done.
“And now we are adults,” she continued. “Andromeda ran off with her worthless little muggleborn fling years ago, and I assume she has deepened ties with you while she did it. And then instead of becoming mine, Bellatrix reached for Regulus while Severus reached for a bottle. And you are still in your own little world of the Marauders, ignoring everything that happened to your brother and to me.”
“Cissy–”
“No, Sirius! It is too late! The only person who saw me and never left was my husband! And I know who Lucius is – I know he can be cruel – but he has never been cruel to me, and he can protect Draco in ways that you cannot!”
“Draco wouldn’t need protection if Lucius wasn’t involved with Voldemort in the first place!” insisted Sirius.
“That may be true, but he extended his hand to me when others looked away. And now I have made my bed, and Draco and I must lie in it. I trust my son’s father far more than I trust a cousin who has never bothered to meet my son before today, despite my efforts to establish contact!”
“If you’re talking about that birth announcement…”
“Of course I am,” she snapped. “Surely you don’t think I sent it to you to brag? I sent one to you and to Andromeda, hoping that one of you would read between the lines and offer help before Draco drew his notice! But I heard nothing, and now I am not in a position to run because it would mean certain death for my son if I did. The best I can do is to cooperate and buy both of us time.”
Sirius looked stricken by this.
“Regulus said Voldemort will be testing the boy.”
Narcissa inclined her head.
“Cissy, you can’t be serious.”
“I have no choice! I am told it is a small ritual. His magical power will be confirmed, and that is all. Once it is complete I will be free to raise Draco until he is of age and called to serve. It is all I can do, Sirius, and I won’t risk my son by resisting it!”
Sirius deflated, and in the evening sun Narcissa could see fine lines on his face, despite the fact that Sirius was only twenty-one. The war and the years-long fight with the Blacks had aged him very prematurely.
“Narcissa, I beg you to reconsider.”
Narcissa shook her head. “No. It is in God’s hands now. Or the gods’, if you prefer.”
Sirius snorted. “You don’t believe in God or the gods.”
“Perhaps not,” said Narcissa. “But today they are all I have.”
******
28 December 1981
Narcissa was sitting in the courtroom, trying desperately not to fidget while she discreetly shifted Draco from one arm to the other and shushed him.
Draco, of course, was uncooperative at eighteen months old. He was an active little boy who had recently learned how to run, and Narcissa was always sending the elves to retrieve him from mischief.
Today, however, he had been clinging to Narcissa and alternating between whimpers and wails. Lucius had terrified him ever since that ritual, and his fear had been made worse while Lucius was absent from their home and being held by the Ministry to await his trial after the Dark Lord’s fall. Narcissa had been allowed to visit Lucius in a Ministry holding cell several times, and she had brought Draco with her to visit twice. Both times he had looked at his father and screamed.
Narcissa stroked the back of Draco’s neck, where a small scar was located. Her sweet boy had barely survived the blood letting that night, and every time Narcissa felt the raised skin under his hairline she felt ill and extraordinarily guilty for having allowed it in the first place.
She knew his hair would cover it, and he would probably never think of it as he grew up. But Narcissa knew it was there. It would always be a reminder that she had failed him.
The doors to the courtroom opened and a familiar face approached, making Narcissa stiffen and Draco shrink away cautiously.
“Cissy,” said Severus, as he lowered himself into the spectator’s section with her.
“What do you want?” she asked coldly.
Severus sighed. “Nothing.”
Narcissa glanced sideways at him. The scent of drink was strong, and his eyes looked dead as he stared at the chair where Lucius would soon appear to hear his fate.
Narcissa’s anger evaporated at the pathetic sight.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she murmured.
Severus slumped. “It’s my fault she’s dead.”
Narcissa shifted Draco again, who was now peeking at the older man from his mother’s shoulder.
“It could be Sirius’s fault,” she pointed out. “Possibly. I can’t be sure.”
Severus gave her a piercing look. “He was their Secret Keeper.”
“Mmmm.”
Truthfully, Narcissa didn’t know what to think of her cousin’s supposed betrayal of the Potters. Up until the day the Dark Lord fell, she would have sworn upon pain of death for herself and her entire family that Sirius Black was as loyal to the Potters as a friend could possibly be. She had never sensed even the slightest hint of betrayal from him, nor had Lucius heard any whispers among the other Death Eaters about Sirius’s role as a spy.
But then he had been caught murdering a group of muggles and Peter Pettigrew the day after the Potters died, and Narcissa’s certainty about his loyalties was shaken.
“Did you do it, Sirius?” she asked, once she was finally allowed to visit Lucius in the holding cell at the Ministry. Sirius was still there as well, and he was scheduled to be transferred to Azkaban the following day, despite the fact that he had not been tried.
“It’s my fault they’re dead,” he said in a voice that held so much grief, Narcissa started.
“Sirius…”
“My fault… all my fault… Regulus was my fault… and now James and Lily and Harry… even you and Draco… I’m supposed to be head of the Blacks with Father dead… everything is my fault…”
“Sirius, did you tell the Dark Lord their location or not?”
“I’m the reason he knew about it… all my fault…”
Narcissa had not been able to get a straight answer from him, and as he continued to declare that their deaths were ‘his fault’ she knew he was beyond help.
Sirius deserved a trial, but the Ministry was on the warpath, and the Malfoy name was presently muck thanks to her husband. The Black name wasn’t any better thanks to Sirius and, most recently, her sister.
The scandal Bellatrix caused only weeks ago by torturing the Longbottoms into insanity had nearly wrecked every scrap of progress Narcissa had made since her husband was arrested.
Narcissa had looked at all three of her family members in the Ministry holding cells and quickly determined that she would only have enough social capital to save one of them. She couldn’t help them all. And when Albus Dumbledore gave testimony to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters’ Secret Keeper and had therefore given the Dark Lord their location, his trial had been cancelled and his Azkaban transfer was scheduled without further ado.
Her efforts would be wasted on Sirius, though her heart broke at the unfairness of it. Bellatrix would at least get a trial, but Narcissa would not stick out her own neck for her big sister either. Bellatrix had grown more unstable as the years moved on, and Narcissa was certain she would send herself to Azkaban because she wouldn’t be able to resist showing her support for the Dark Lord in front of the entire Wizengamot. Narcissa knew that Bellatrix still believed he was alive and lurking somewhere, perhaps hidden by the Order. That was why she had gone after the Longbottoms in the first place.
Bellatrix’s trial was scheduled for the following week. Narcissa wouldn’t attend, because she already knew what would happen. She concluded that it was time to repair the Malfoy name as best as she could since the Black name was forever tainted.
So that left Lucius. He was her husband. He was the father of her child. And though Draco was frightened of him now, that surely wouldn’t last forever.
Unlike Bellatrix, Lucius was loyal to himself first. He had not declared public allegiance to the Dark Lord during his trial that took place just before Christmas, and instead he claimed to be under the imperius curse.
It wasn’t true, but Narcissa had plunged their vaults to ensure that the ‘Veritaserum’ the Ministry guards fed to him just before he testified was nothing more than water and that the more traditional members of the Wizengamot would look favorably upon him today. So that’s why she was here, waiting to see if her bribes and vague promises of favors in the future would be enough to allow her husband to go free.
She wasn’t proud of it, but she thought that Lucius was all she had left.
Then again, perhaps he wasn’t. She glanced sideways at her old friend and saw that he was lost in thought. She had suspected for years that Severus was an accomplished occlumens, and that was practically confirmed when Dumbledore testified during his trial that he had been the Order’s spy all along. Narcissa privately believed that he was loyal to neither the Dark Lord nor Dumbledore, but only to himself and Lily Potter. Still, she knew that Severus would never have been able to fool either one of his masters without exceptional occlumency.
Seeing him now, Narcissa could tell his occlumency shields were shattered. It was the most emotion she had seen on his face in years. The death of Lily Potter had left him bereft.
Narcissa’s feelings about Lily Potter were distinctly mixed. Narcissa had never been close to Lily or James for obvious reasons, and she deeply resented Lily for breaking Severus’s heart. Narcissa had always viewed Lily as being brash and unforgiving and remarkably inflexible. Didn’t she understand the pressure that Severus had been under during school? Would she really allow a close childhood friendship to whither and die simply because he snapped and called her a foul name while being publicly humiliated by her future husband?
No, Narcissa had never cared for Lily Potter.
But after the Dark Lord’s fall, an avalanche of rumors emerged that Lily had died standing between the Dark Lord and her son who was only a few weeks younger than Draco. She even took the Dark Lord down with her while she did it. Narcissa felt begrudging respect for the woman she had always so despised, and ever since the Dark Lord fell, Narcissa had dwelled on the kind of bravery it took to stand in front of one’s child in the face of a monster.
Narcissa was forced to admit that she had not stood in front of Draco. No, she had given him up. She had convinced herself the test would be nothing but a formality to prove that Draco carried strong magic in his blood. It would be better for both of them if she cooperated because she could not see a way out of it.
But Lily had found a way out. She had died rather than let the Dark Lord touch her son.
“I will admit she was very brave,” said Narcissa out loud.
Severus looked at her with the saddest eyes she had ever seen.
“She was. And she was so very foolish.”
Narcissa frowned. “How?”
Severus gave a bitter laugh. “Because he may not be dead, Cissy. He’s gone for now, but he could come back someday. She allowed herself to die for something that didn’t even work.”
Narcissa went cold.
“Lucius is sure he’s dead. I know Bellatrix thinks he’s still out there, but she’s gone a bit mad ever since he disappeared…Lucius is certain… his Dark Mark has faded…”
Narcissa’s heart was racing now as she stroked the small scar on the back of Draco’s neck, making him squirm in her arms.
Severus’s face was grim, but he just shook his head.
“This must stay just between us… but Dumbledore feels sure that some part of him survived. He may not be corporeal at the moment, but he won’t be gone forever. He will find a way to return someday.”
It was like falling into a void.
Everything she had endured over the last few years – her husband’s missions, her son’s test, the destruction of her family’s good name, all while mothering her very young child – hit her at once. Ever since the Dark Lord’s supposed demise she had been telling herself that she would persevere. She would be okay. Yes, Draco had drawn the Dark Lord’s attention once, but that no longer mattered. And as soon as Lucius was out of prison they could become a family again, and she could start to rebuild her life. Maybe she would even reconnect with the sister who was still free and finally meet her niece.
But no. If the Dark Lord was still out there, then none of it was over, not really.
“Sev,” she said in a desperate voice.
To her surprise, Severus reached for her free hand and clasped it firmly, just like he used to do when they were children and her sisters and cousins made her cry.
“It will be alright, Cissy.”
“No… no, it will never be alright!”
She was breathing hard, shaking as she clutched Draco to her tighter than ever. He gave a small wail in protest, and then Severus surprised her further by pulling Draco out of her arms and onto his lap.
Draco immediately stopped crying and looked at Severus solemnly, obviously unsure about the older man, but no longer frightened of him either.
“It will,” said Severus firmly. “You will have Lucius when this is all over. And you still have me.”
“Do I?” she asked.
Severus used to be hers, but it had been so long since she ranked for his attention compared to Lily or Regulus that she couldn’t be sure he meant it.
“Yes,” said Severus. “I’m sorry I pulled away. I shouldn’t have done that, Cissy, not ever. But you still have me, and… well, I hope I have you. I don’t have anybody like Lucius in my life. I have nobody left but you.”
Something about his hesitant declaration calmed her spiraling thoughts. Severus was right. She had her husband and one friend. He had only one friend. Both of their circles had slowly shrunk thanks to the war, and now that there was temporary peace they needed to realign with one another. If the Dark Lord ever came back it could be very important to have him on her side.
“You’re right,” she said. “I don’t know what will come in the future, but… yes. We can be friends again. And Draco needs an honorary godfather. I’m certain that his actual godparents will be going to prison very soon.”
Not for the first time Narcissa deeply regretted naming Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus as Draco’s godparents. She had chosen them out of obligation, but Severus would have been better suited for it.
Severus relaxed ever so slightly, and he nodded.
“Then let me suggest – as your friend and Draco’s honorary godfather – that you insist upon Draco attending Hogwarts when he turns eleven.”
Narcissa looked at him sharply.
“Lucius wants to send him to Durmstrang.”
“I’m aware,” said Severus wryly. “Lucius has told me many times that he does not wish for his son to study under Dumbledore. And you may not have had a say in it while the Dark Lord was here… But if he is still gone when Draco turns eleven, then you should do everything you can to send him to Hogwarts.”
He trailed off, but she heard his message loud and clear.
“Will you still be there?”
“Yes, I will return to my teaching job in the new term, and I can watch over Draco if he is ever a student. Dumbledore will be naming me head of Slytherin House as soon as Professor Garfield retires at the end of the school year. Dumbledore has already selected a former Ravenclaw to take the post of Ancient Runes Professor when he’s gone, so I will be the senior-most Slytherin on staff.”
“You’ll be the only Slytherin on staff,” she said wryly.
“True, but if he ever hires any others… I will have seniority.”
Narcissa fell silent as she contemplated her friend. He was remarkably young to be teaching Potions and leading a Hogwarts House. In fact, he was so young, he had overlapped in school with at least half of his current students. And yet here he was, on the other side of the war with a secure and admirable career that could give him some purpose while he waited for the Dark Lord to return.
“I will not deny that I find the idea much more palatable than Durmstrang, but the Dark Lord knows of Draco already,” she said in a quiet voice. “It may not matter.”
“It will matter,” said Severus with such confidence that Narcissa straightened up to listen closely.
“How can you be sure?”
Severus hesitated.
“Draco was not the only one tested, Cissy,” he said slowly. “The Nott boy was too. And before them, Regulus was tested the day after Sirius abandoned his family and ran off with Potter. Old Walburga Black dragged her son before the Dark Lord herself…. The Dark Lord was deeply interested in the power of children and how it grows as they age. You know power builds, and the big leaps happen during puberty while children are in school. I believe that sort of attention can be better managed when the children are kept at a distance from those who would call them to serve.”
Narcissa was horrified.
“He wanted to use children?”
“He brought Regulus into the fold before Regulus was of age, didn’t he?”
Narcissa fell silent, her stomach twisting at the thought. The Dark Lord had been greedy that night when he confirmed Draco’s power, and it had scared Narcissa as nothing else had.
Severus continued.
“I’ve already spoken to Eleanor Nott about this, and she believes she can convince Tiberius to enroll their son at Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, assuming he bribes his way out of Azkaban in a few weeks. Tiberius doesn’t like foreigners, you know, he won’t be hard to convince. Lucius may be more challenging, but it’s important that you try. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
If the Dark Lord returns while Draco is in school, then Durmstrang will fall to his rule before Hogwarts will. Draco will have some protection at Hogwarts as long as Dumbledore is alive and Severus is there to watch over him.
“Yes,” she said, “but Lucius will fight me on it. He actually believes in blood superiority, you know.”
Severus snorted. “And you don’t?”
Narcissa shrugged. “I was raised to be proud of my heritage and name, you know that. But beliefs? These days I believe whatever I must to keep my family safe. That is all.”
Severus hummed.
“Then please believe me so you can keep Draco as safe as possible. This is worth a fight with your husband, Cissy.”
Narcissa said nothing to this as the Head Mugwump banged a gavel, and the courtroom rose.
Lucius was being escorted into the room by a pair of aurors, and he lowered himself onto the chair, holding his chin high as he was bound in place.
Narcissa retrieved Draco from Severus’s arms, just as Lucius’s gaze fell on her. She couldn’t smile, but she grimaced. He just raised one eyebrow, as though he was thoroughly unimpressed by his surroundings.
His arrogance was astounding, but Narcissa was forced to admit that it was one of the things about Lucius Malfoy that had always drawn her to him.
“You may be seated!” cried Barty Crouch, who was leading the proceedings. Narcissa sat again, her hands trembling as she waited for the verdict.
“In the case of the Ministry of Magic versus Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you have heard the charges and the evidence. Please raise your hand if you believe the defendant to be guilty of knowingly associating with the organization known as the Death Eaters and all related crimes that have previously been presented to this court!”
Narcissa closed her eyes and prayed to any god who would hear her that her bribes would work and her husband would walk free.
She only opened them again when she heard the roar of dismay coming from the aurors in attendance. There were quite a few hands in the air to be sure, but it wasn’t enough to convict him.
It wasn’t nearly enough.
“Very well,” said Crouch bitterly. “Mr. Malfoy, you are cleared of all charges. You are free to go.”
Lucius caught Narcissa’s eyes once more, and he gave her a satisfied smile that both chilled her heart and made it lurch with pleasure at precisely the same time.
She wasn’t sure what would come next, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she should have chosen Sirius after all.
******
“You are looking as lovely as ever, Cissy.”
Narcissa raised her eyes to find her husband studying her over their dinner. Draco was already asleep, thank God. The poor child had been inconsolable when Lucius tried to take him from Narcissa right after the verdict, and Narcissa had to snatch him back so they could push through the reporters without further incident. The entire ordeal had been too much for their boy, and Draco just buried his face into Narcissa’s shoulder as he sobbed.
At least the media wouldn’t have a picture of their son’s face after the spectacle at the Ministry. Narcissa was certain that her face and Lucius’s would be plastered all over The Daily Prophet the next morning, and she was dreading it.
“And you are looking thin.”
Lucius’s mouth quirked in that familiar way that reminded Narcissa of the early days of their relationship. She was a year ahead of Severus and Sirius in school and three years behind Lucius. But by the time Lucius was leaving Hogwarts, he already had his eye on her — the youngest Black sister, the girl who was in the middle of five cousins and who had been left behind along the way.
She had been starting her fifth year when her father informed her with delight that the Malfoys had reached out about establishing a match with their only son. The witch originally chosen for Lucius during his early years at Hogwarts had proven to be unsatisfactory, and Lucius had approached his father to request that Narcissa be the replacement.
It was flattering enough to turn any young girl’s head, and Narcissa had fallen in love with the older boy through his regular letters and their few chaperoned meetings during school breaks.
On her seventeenth birthday the Blacks and Malfoys executed a contract to wed. Two years later they were married. And two years after that they had Draco, and the Dark Lord was growing more demanding by the day.
Narcissa thought she had always held a piece of Lucius’s heart, though her husband could be cold at times and very hard to read. He was certainly faithful to her and had never been openly cruel to her the way he could act toward others. But their relationship was far more complex now than it had been when she was fifteen and blushing at his letters.
“Prison will make one thin… as will the death of one’s only remaining parent,” he commented.
Narcissa’s mouth tightened. Her feelings about her husband’s temporary incarceration notwithstanding, it had been a tragedy that her father-in-law Abraxas had succumbed to dragon pox while Lucius was imprisoned. She knew they had always been very close.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it.
A shadow of grief passed over his face, but he pushed it away.
“It is the way of things.”
They were silent for a long while as Narcissa wondered what on earth they should do next. She had been taking the last few months one day at a time, and now they were here with Lucius walking free and temporary peace until the Dark Lord returned… but when?
“What is it?” asked Lucius sharply, noticing her troubled expression.
Narcissa grimaced and straightened up. “I just… what are we going to tell Draco? About all of this?”
She swept her hand out to gesture toward the robes that were bagging on him and his hair that desperately needed a trim.
Lucius’s eyes went flinty.
“Why would we tell him anything? He’s a baby.”
Narcissa looked at him incredulously. “You don’t think he’ll find out eventually?”
Lucius’s mouth thinned.
“Draco will know whatever we teach him, Cissy. There is no reason for him to be aware of everything that took place over the last few months until he’s older.”
“Lucius…”
“I mean it, Cissy. He’s a child. We could teach him that the sky is always purple, and he would believe it because that would be all he knows!”
“Until a tutor or a friend comes along and tells him it’s usually blue,” she pointed out.
Lucius waved her off. “You know what I’m saying. The things we teach him about his heritage and the war will be entirely in-line with what his tutors reinforce and his peers believe. It is simple, Cissy. He is our son, and that makes it our responsibility to control what he learns. Once he’s a little older we can explain everything to him in a way that’s appropriate for his age and experience. The Malfoys traditionally share knowledge of the wards and marital relations with their children when they turn thirteen. I see no reason why Draco should learn about the Death Eaters before he learns about reproduction. He can be raised to respect his heritage and honor our name and blood without explaining the politics behind it all. Draco can learn the details once he’s a teenager and better equipped to understand it.”
Narcissa fell silent as she weighed this. She knew what her husband really meant. He wanted Draco to think like he did, and his point was well-taken that young children couldn’t comprehend nuance. Narcissa had been raised that way too, and while she had largely fallen in line with it, she also knew from personal experience that the traditional rhetoric could feel stifling and even illogical as one aged. Andromeda had rebelled from it. Sirius appeared to have rebelled from it before the Potters died. Even Regulus fled before the end.
“I don’t know if that will work, Lucius.”
Lucius scowled. “Of course it will work! We will raise him as we were raised. And then he will go to Durmstrang and be surrounded by—”
“No,” said Narcissa, cutting him off. “Not Durmstrang.”
Lucius’s expression turned icy.
“Cissy…”
“No, Lucius. I cannot… I just cannot bear it. He’s my only son. I do not want him so far from me. And now that the Dark Lord may be gone we actually have a choice… ”
“Dumbledore is a mudblood-loving fool,” he insisted. “And the Dark Lord is gone. I’ve told you about my Dark Mark.”
Narcissa hesitated, and unfortunately Lucius noticed it.
“What?”
“It’s just… Bellatrix thinks he’s still out there. Severus is unsure, but thinks it’s possible. He may not be gone.”
“Then all the more reason to send Draco to Durmstrang!”
Narcissa turned her pleading gaze on her husband.
“Please, Lucius… I want Draco at Hogwarts. If the Dark Lord is still gone when he’s eleven, I don’t want our son so far away from us. Dumbledore doesn’t matter. Severus plans to resume his duties next term and stay indefinitely. He said that he will become Head of Slytherin House next year. You know Draco would be sorted into Slytherin, and we will have somebody we trust keeping a close eye on him.”
“Do we trust Severus?” demanded Lucius. “Because Dumbledore gave testimony himself.”
Narcissa shrugged. “What of it? He was the Dark Lord’s spy. You said yourself he was responsible for giving our side intelligence that led to many successful raids. He’s also the one who reported the Prophecy, and it’s not his fault the Dark Lord chose to act with incomplete information. Didn’t you say that Severus begged him to wait until he could learn more?”
“Because of that mudblood no doubt.”
Narcissa waved a dismissive hand. “It was a crush in school, nothing more. He moved on from it well before we were married.”
It wasn’t true, of course, but only a few people knew just how much Severus had loved Lily Potter, and Lucius was not one of them. Regardless of her old friend’s loyalties and beliefs, Narcissa felt sure that Severus would try to protect those who were important to him in whatever way he could. Draco may not be important to Severus just yet, but he could be with enough time and effort. She needed Lucius to believe that Severus was loyal and unaffected by Lily’s death.
“Are you certain?”
“Of course. You know we are old friends. We spoke about Lily before your verdict, and he didn’t shed a tear for her.”
“But Dumbledore’s testimony—”
“Oh for God’s sake Lucius, you surely can’t fault Severus for leaning on Dumbledore to keep him out of Azkaban! I nearly drained one of our vaults to do the same thing for you! And the testimony only means that Severus did his job and made the old fool trust him, just as the Dark Lord ordered.”
Lucius seemed to weigh this, and to Narcissa’s relief he finally inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“You owe me this, Lucius,” she pressed. “After the last few months and that night… ”
Lucius sat back and contemplated Narcissa for a full minute before he spoke. Narcissa was sure she knew what was coming next: Lucius was preparing to negotiate.
“I will agree to keep Hogwarts on the table if you agree that some of your… more questionable views… will be kept to yourself and not shared with our son.”
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “Like what?”
“No more trips to Salisbury with the boy. I don’t want him to be influenced by the muggle filth.”
Narcissa’s heart broke a little at this. While Lucius was being held at the Ministry she had taken Draco to Salisbury nearly every day. The dog who used to visit them there seemed to have moved on, but Draco scarcely noticed. He loved to toddle through the large cloister of the cathedral and point to the animals and people in the stained glass windows. And as for Narcissa, she had taken solace in her anonymity there.
But she knew this was too important. She could give it up to make sure Draco went to Hogwarts.
“Very well.”
“And I will have final say over the things that Draco learns and studies. He will still need to be taught Norwegian because if you are correct that the Dark Lord is not dead, then he may return before Draco goes to school and insist that Draco go to Durmstrang. If that happens we cannot object, Cissy. Draco must be prepared just in case.”
“I know that.”
“And your muggle holidays—”
“Stop,” insisted Narcissa. “They are not muggle holidays. Plenty of wizards celebrate them too. We do not need to make Draco worship any god, but I will not be denied Christmas with my only child. You missed Christmas this year, being in prison.”
She made this last point a little bitterly.
Lucius studied her carefully, but then nodded once. “Fine.”
“Then we are in agreement?” asked Narcissa quickly, before Lucius could think of anything else to use as leverage.
“We are in agreement.”
******
2 July 1989
Draco was standing before her in the dress robes that Lucius insisted he wear for the daily recitation of his lessons. He was fidgeting, desperately trying not to scratch at his collar, and Narcissa made a mental note to speak with Mopsy, Draco’s elf, about altering it to add some lining.
She knew her boy despised dressing this way, but they had a habit of doing this right before dinner, and Lucius preferred a formal table.
“Master Draco has done exceptionally well today,” said his tutor.
Draco rolled his eyes at his tutor’s praise and Narcissa suppressed a smile. Her boy could be so like his father sometimes.
“Naturally,” said Lucius in a bored voice, as he prepared to question their son. “Now then, Draco, when did Sargentius Malfoy die?” he asked.
“1452, sir.”
“And who did he marry?”
“Elizabeth Borgin, sir.”
“And how many issue did he have?”
“Erm… issue sir?”
“Children, boy. How many children did he have?” Lucius clarified, casting an annoyed look at Draco’s tutor because he obviously hadn’t taught Draco this word yet.
Narcissa gently trod on his foot to tell him to control his temper.
“Three, sir. Marcellus, who was the heir, Vincius, who was the spare, and Amelia, who married Felix Rosier.”
“And who was the first Unpardonable in our family?” he continued.
Draco’s gray eyes widened in surprise. Lucius didn’t often ask about the so-called ‘Unpardonables,’ and Narcissa’s own spine stiffened to hear him raise it.
“Janus Malfoy, sir.”
Then Draco added, “He was born in 1312, sir.”
Lucius grimaced, and then Draco winced at his father’s expression. Narcissa wanted to shake her husband. Why ask about the Unpardonables at all if he didn’t wish for Draco to learn any of the other details that were customary?
“And what was his crime?” continued Lucius coldly.
“He married a mug – I mean, a mudblood, Father,” said Draco confidently.
Narcissa pursed her lips, but let the word go without comment. It might be a bit impolite, but Draco had come by it honestly.
“Precisely, Draco. And how was he punished?”
“He was cut off from the family, sir. His older brother, Brutus, who was the heir, took away his money, and his children were never called Malfoys.”
“That’s right. And what are mudbloods Draco?”
“They are magical people who are no better than animals, sir. They are common. They are nothing. Their parents are dirty muggles, sir.”
Lucius nodded in satisfaction, and Draco let out a breath of relief and gave his father a tentative smile, always desperate for his approval.
Narcissa’s own face remained impassive, but internally she grimaced. She could not deny that Lucius’s educational methods had turned Draco into a perfect pureblood son. These days Draco looked at her husband with awe, and the fear that he had held for Lucius since he was a baby had morphed. Narcissa knew he was still afraid of Lucius, though not because Lucius physically disciplined him. It was Lucius’s disappointment that Draco feared above all else because it was palpable and heartbreaking.
In fact, Draco was so afraid of letting down his father that Narcissa often wondered if that night with the Dark Lord was still affecting him years later. Draco had no memory of it of course, but perhaps he associated fear and disappointment with pain.
As for Narcissa, she became unsettled every time the recitation of lessons drifted toward those political nuances Lucius refused to explain to their nine-year-old son. Many of their recitations were entirely neutral – perhaps a test of Draco’s progress in mathematics or a conversation in French or Norwegian. Draco excelled in languages, and she knew he enjoyed those recitations the most because he could shift from one language to the next fluently. It never failed to please Lucius.
The family history lessons, however, had always made Narcissa tense, especially when Lucius reinforced blood purity as part of it. For all of Draco’s dreams of being just like his father, she saw something in her son that was a bit different than her husband. He had moments of softness and reflection that Lucius did not share. They had become increasingly rare as Draco grew older to be sure – and at this point she even hoped that Lucius’s methods would work so that Draco could be content – but whenever she saw the side of him that was more like her, she couldn’t help but worry.
There was so much they had never told him. So much that Lucius insisted upon keeping a secret until that magical age of thirteen. Ever since the night Lucius was acquitted, he had made training Draco his top priority. Lucius carefully curated Draco’s curriculum and reading list to ensure it was consistent with his own views. He slowly, but surely, removed Draco from play groups and reduced opportunities for socialization with other children, fearing they would be a negative influence. Lucius carefully monitored Draco’s interactions with Severus because he was still a bit distrusting of Severus’s true loyalties. But as long as the Dark Lord didn’t return in the next two years, then her boy would be going to Hogwarts when he turned eleven.
Narcissa would make sure of it.
At that point, Draco would be beyond Lucius’s control, and Narcissa did not know what would come of it.
“Now then Draco, it is time you moved on to learn about the Blacks next. Your mother will question you most thoroughly, beginning tomorrow evening.”
Narcissa inclined her own head in acknowledgment, and Draco did as well.
“You may be dismissed, Draco.”
“Thank Merlin,” he blurted out.
Narcissa hid a smile.
“It’s ‘thank Salazar,’” Lucius corrected.
Draco’s cheeks turned red, but he wisely said nothing more. Instead, he straightened up and then gave the formal bow that he had learned at age four.
Lucius flicked his hand toward Draco in dismissal, and Draco turned to hurry off, obviously relieved that his recitation was over. His tutor hurried away too, looking a bit worried at the expression on Lucius’s face.
“Will you be ready to quiz Draco on the Blacks tomorrow?” asked Lucius, now turning to Narcissa.
She just raised an eyebrow. “I know my family tree just as well as you know yours, Lucius…”
Lucius’s own cheeks turned a bit pink.
“It’s for the best, Narcissa.”
“If you really think he’s never going to learn about–”
“He won’t,” said Lucius curtly. “She’s dead, and I’ll be sure to have a word with her husband about it before it could become an issue. And if Draco ever does learn of it, he will maintain appropriate boundaries. He’s a dutiful child.”
“True,” conceded Narcissa. “Though in the case of family members…”
“You and I both know that it’s best he doesn’t learn of them. At least not yet.”
Narcissa allowed herself to feel her resentment for just a moment. Lucius had no problem keeping certain family members of his a secret, but Narcissa wanted nothing more than to tell Draco about her own.
She knew Lucius would never condone Draco learning about Andromeda or her daughter Nymphadora, at least not until he was old enough to shun them himself. As always, she faced the loss of her older sister and niece and then placed them into their respective boxes in her mind that were reserved just for them. It would do her no good to dwell on things she could not have – that Draco could not have.
“And what about Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Sirius?”
Lucius fell silent as he considered this carefully.
“Be circumspect, Cissy, but I think he can learn about all three. Two of them are his godparents, and he will need to meet them one day.”
“Even Sirius?”
“I certainly don’t wish for him to meet Sirius, but it may be unavoidable at some point. Besides, he has gone mute in Azkaban, so we can only hope that if that day ever comes Sirius will have nothing to say to Draco.”
Lucius was right, of course. Narcissa visited Bellatrix every few months out of a lingering sense of obligation, and she always passed Sirius’s cell while she did it. Sirius had not spoken to her in at least a year.
Her mental box for Sirius Black was just as large as Andromeda's and far larger than Nymphadora’s. It was filled with bitterness and anger and regret and guilt.
There was so much guilt.
“Very well,” she said. “I will be careful about what I say.”
“I know you will,” said Lucius. “You would do anything to make sure our son is happy.”
It was true. Other than his safety, Narcissa wanted nothing more than for Draco to be happy and content in his role as the Malfoy heir. It might hurt Narcissa’s heart to enforce the boundaries Lucius had imposed, but as always, she reminded herself it was for the best. It would be easier for Draco if he never knew what he was missing. It would be kinder if she kept that knowledge to herself until he was a little older.
For now, Narcissa would follow in her husband’s footsteps and continue to raise Draco to believe the things that Lucius did.
The sky in her little boy’s world was still purple and would be for some time.
She dreaded the day it inevitably turned blue.