Chapter Text
When Draco was born, he was very little.
Lucius had fallen asleep of exhaustion with the whole ordeal, leaving the mother alone with her child. Draco had done the same as his father, and was deep asleep in a little towel which appeared gigantic around him.
Narcissa had sat with her baby in her arms, softly studying the ugly, twisted lump of flesh which would one day grow to be sentient, but who currently was little more than a creature. To her confusion, she was not repulsed by the alien creature, but found him painfully easy to love. It was baffling to the woman to think that she had once been so small and so insignificant, yet somehow came to grow into herself over the years.
Little Lucius Junior, who would later be named Draco, rather than Junior, was very small. Narcissa worried that the world would hurt him, simply because he was so small. Little things did not tend to do well on their own, when far larger things were hungry.
Luckily for Draco, his mother was one of those larger things, who would not allow the world to harm her child.
He would grow up and become like his father and mother, and he would never be a victim of the world.
Narcissa and Lucius would keep him safe.
Narcissa liked to think that she was a woman of principles, and of strict discipline. She had raised Draco to be like her, and taught him that all he knew was right and correct, unless otherwise proven by an authority figure.
The Malfoys had taught their son that he was a Pureblood, and therefore perfect. Draco was the kind of person who was better than others because of his birth, and because of this high status, he must be aware that people would attempt to diminish the importance of that blood. Draco was a ruler amongst peasants, ones who could never understand the aristocratic roots of both his lineage as well as the history of the world and the mage community.
Draco was raised as the heir of the Malfoy family, he would grow to be the very same as his father and mother, and he would continue the Pureblood legacy, just as his ancestors and parents before him.
Then Draco found a friend in a boy named Harry Lupin.
Narcissa had long since been conflicted about the boy, seeing as he was not the type of person a Pureblood should associate with. He had no name, no money, no blood worth speaking of, yet somehow, he had changed Draco beyond recognition.
Yet even more baffling, Harry Lupin had caused the entirety of the Malfoy family to change as well, leaving different people in the wake of his path. It was as if the boy was not even trying, yet somehow managed to bring about all the faults of a person, prompting them not to hide in shame, but to change in an effort to improve.
Before Narcissa had understood what was happening, she had been changed as well.
Those principles she always believed in were slowly disproven by the people around her, and she even found comradery in a young Muggle-born girl whom Narcissa found clever and charming. Had she not been Muggle-born, Hermione Granger would have been the perfect woman for Draco, her inability of giving birth notwithstanding, she was the type of daughter in law whom Narcissa would ideally have wanted. However, Hermione Granger was a girl whom Narcissa took under her care, becoming the patron of the young woman who was struggling to grow both into being a witch as well as being a woman. She was a young woman who Narcissa could see herself in, and a young woman whom she wanted to protect.
While Narcissa struggled to express love in any kind to anyone who was not her husband or child, she cared greatly for Hermione. This should have disgraced her as a Pureblood, yet Narcissa did not feel ashamed to have become the patron of one of the most brilliant students her age at Hogwarts. Those principles had indeed not been as strict and certain as Narcissa had thought them to be.
The world was changing, and it might be changing for the better. It might become a world where small things were not devoured by larger things, simply for their crime of never having been allowed to grow in the first place.
Perhaps Narcissa was changing for the better too. She had more friends than ever before, and while the selection of people within that collective of friends would have killed her mother from outright shock, Narcissa was, oddly enough, happy. She had never quite considered herself sad, or even unhappy, yet she had not known that company would bring her happiness.
Werewolves, Mudbloods, blood traitors, disgraced family members.
Somehow, they all simply became individuals once one saw past the titles which they had never picked for themselves. Even she, the proud Pureblood of ancient lineage and the Malfoy matron, became little more than Narcissa when she was around those people. To her appalment, Narcissa realised that she liked being simply Narcissa. While she liked being all her titles as well, she realised that she had missed a part of her life where she was but Narcissa.
However, such happy days were not meant to last.
Last year, Lucius had left without speaking to her about why he needed to be absent. They were still very much married, and so they would remain until death separated them, but Narcissa worried about his absence. She could understand why it was that he had chosen to not come home, but she could not fathom as to why he had chosen to not rely on her. Had she not proven herself to be loyal and dutiful, or was it that Lucius thought her new connections to place her in danger with the people he surrounded himself with? Narcissa agnoised about her burning questions, yet did not speak to anyone but Severus Snape and Remus Lupin about her worries. She primarily spoke up because the two men persuaded her to confide in them, yet the admittance of worry caused her quite some grief.
Most surprisingly, she had received a message conveyed by none other than the blood traitor Arthur Weasley, finally letting her know that Lucius was trying to protect her and Draco by staying away.
Then Lucius was not only arrested, but stolen away from her into Azkaban, her previously imprisoned sister fell out of her fireplace, and Draco was admitted to the hospital for a terrible injury which left him deformed. Following all of those horrible events, the Dark Lord himself took up residence with his followers within Narcissa’s home. It all happened not at once, but in rapid succession, leaving the woman little time to prepare and arrange matters to her own liking.
Honorable people from ancient lineages, true champions for Pureblood superiority, loyal followers and heroes from the past mage war all gathered within her home, filling it with the kind of people who Narcissa should adore, yet whom she did not.
What she saw were abused prisoners and insane or forgotten mages, all of which gathered under the rule of an albeit charming and oddly humble leader.
Narcissa had no choice but to allow them to stay and use her home as if it was their own, but she did not consider it the honor which her past self would have found it.
Certain actions had to be taken and completed before she could cut all ties with her previous associates and friends, for her own sake as well as for theirs.
Sirius Potter’s funeral had to be arranged, Draco had to heal and be made aware of the situation as he returned from Hogwarts, Hermione had to be removed from Naricssa’s life completely, Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley needed to be rejected and their phone numbers needed to disappear. Yet perhaps most pressingly, Andromeda could not be made aware of what had happened, or she might prompt her Auror daughter to perform another investigation of Malfoy Manor, which Narcissa had already managed to pass once, but would not pass again.
The funeral was easy enough to arrange, although Narcissa found it hard to not want to cry during it. Perhaps she was not so much mourning her cousin as much as she was mourning the loss of the people around her, and the friendships she had made.
Hermione was rejected in a letter which had broken Narcissa’s heart to write as she expressed sentiments of hate and disgust which did in no way reflect how she actually felt. Yet she had to write it under the watchful eye of Bellatrix Lestrange, her most insane sister, leaving her no choice but to be as cruel as she could for the sake of discouraging the young woman from attempting to contact Narcissa ever again.
Yet Narcissa was no fool, and she knew that her protégé was not.
Thus, she collected an old book which she knew that Hermione had read from the library when she had been there over the last summers and holidays. The book was old yet the print was clear, although it would not be when Narcissa was finished with it. During a collection of nights, she tampered with the book, causing words to fade and well as letters, painstakingly crafting a message in the dark of the night for only Hermione. Within it Narcissa attempted to make the young woman aware of the situation which both she and Draco had found themselves in, while asking her to remain distant for her own safety.
The book was included in her letter, which claimed the book to have been sullied by the Mudblood’s touch and could therefore not remain in the noble Malfoy library. Both the letter and the book passed Bellatrix’s watchful gaze, and the two were sent off to Hermione.
After the funeral, Narcissa would hang up every time Remus or Molly called her, attempting to fit as much rejection as she possibly could into her voice as she snorted with disgust upon hearing their voices, before she hung up. She attempted to burn the address book inside which she had kept all of her friends’ phone numbers but struggled to. She finally had no choice when Bella asked what the book was and tried to take it from her. The book went into the fire rather than into her sister’s hands, and Narcissa cried that night for the connections which she had lost within the unfeeling flames.
Narcissa forced herself to call Andromeda before she had burned the book, and told her sister that she had changed her mind about her, and that without Sirius there to force her into accepting her rejected extended family, Andromeda was no longer welcome into her life.
Her sister hung up with the words “yeah, that’s what I should have expected from you.”
The words hurt Narcissa more than she would have thought possible.
Lucius’ incarceration hurt both his wife and his son, yet it did not hurt nearly as much as the look of fear, hopelessness and worry which spread over Draco’s face when he realised that he currently lived in a house full of Death Eaters, including the Dark Lord himself and the woman who had deformed him.
Narcissa loathed the manner in which her son appeared to simply surrender when he realised that he had no other choice, and pretend to be brave when he too had to write a letter to Harry Lupin, denouncing him for all that he was and all that Draco actually loved about him. Any subsequent letters which Draco’s previous boyfriend wrote to him, Draco threw into the fire without opening, causing the indifferent flames to continuously destroy Harry Lupin’s attempts at reaching out to the person he loved.
Narcissa wished beyond anything that she could have saved the letters from the fire and allowed Draco to read them in peace, yet she could not, as Bella was always watching.
Narcissa Malfoy was sitting within one of her parlour rooms, accompanied by her sister. She had many feelings in regards to Bella, seeing as the woman was no longer sane, and she had not only attacked Narcissa’s child, but scarred him for life. Bella had begged forgiveness for her unforgivable crime, pleading in a manner which Narcissa had never seen her plead. Bella had been crying, whining and grabbing at Narcissa with her broken nails and blistered hands, repeating over and over that she had never meant to hurt Draco. That she thought he had been an Auror, not her beloved nephew.
More out of fear than pity or understanding, Narcissa had claimed to have forgiven her, if only to have her sister cease her behavior. Since then, Bella had spent a lot of time around her, wanting to talk and make up and just conversate. However, the more time Narcissa spent around her sister, the less she found that she enjoyed her company.
Bella was the oldest and Narcissa was the youngest of the Black sisters. They had been raised similarly, yet Bella had been given the privilege and the curse of being the oldest, making it so that she always knew the best and could not take any criticism about her opinions, actions or personality. Narcissa had long since denied how much she disliked that about her sibling, yet she could hardly stand it the longer she spent time around Bella. Not to mention that she noticed that her sister had an alarming habit of needing to compare the two of them, for no other reason than that she apparently had to.
“I’m simply saying, Cissy, that it’s really a good thing that you were born like that.”
Bella sat with her feet up on the table, leaned back like a slob in the armchair after Narcissa requested that she not use the armrest as her leg support. Bella used the old nickname which the family had used for Narcissa, and which she had explicitly attempted to have her sister not use, seeing as she now knew that the word was a slur in Muggle language, even if the actual slur was spelled differently.
“You don’t have to worry about carrying the child, you can just make it. In fact, you could make a lot of them, as many as you want!” Bella continued, uncaring about the fact that her words were insulting and hurtful to her sister. “Really, I would have wanted to be born like you. It’s horrible being pregnant, hah, it’s actually kind of a relief that I never got more than three months down that path.” Bella rambled on, unaware that her expression gave away that she was not quite as convinced about her statements as she wanted to be.
Narcissa understood that her older sister was struggling with the fact that her body had failed her in the one task which was expected and celebrated by all Pureblood families: to create the next generation of Pureblood mages. She understood that Bella was hurting from her continuous miscarriages, which the witch herself treated as inconveniences at worst, and something convenient at best. She understood that these things might not have hurt Bella or made her act like this if she hadn't been raised a Pureblood where her only value as a woman lay in her ability to create heirs. She further understood that Bella was troubled by the fact that her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, appeared to have finally abandoned her.
The abandonment had not surprised anyone, not even Bella. It had nothing to do with the fact that Rodolphus had taken another husband so soon after her, and it had nothing to do with him not loving his wife, of that Narcissa was certain. Many Purebloods lived in large families, and both she and her two sisters were the result of three consequential and successful marriages. The failure of Bella’s marriage had nothing to do with Rabastan being better than her, which he probably was, but with the fact that Bella had finally stepped beyond what Rodolphus was willing or capable to handle.
Narcissa would have wanted to speak to Rodolphus about quite some things, but she only ever saw him during the Death Eater meetings, which were few and far between. She did not know where he was currently staying, and they had only exchanged a few words as Rodolphus expressed his regret in what had happened to both Lucius as well as Draco.
As Bella continued to ramble about her twisted experiences and feelings, Narcissa told herself that any time she forced herself to spend around Bella was time which Bella could not pester Draco, or anyone else for that matter. The arrangement was preferable in every way, even if it did hurt Narcissa to be around her older sister.
However, that particular day, Narcissa could hardly hear her sister as she anxiously awaited the arrival of a person who had only now been called to the Dark Lord’s side. She desperately needed to speak to him about Draco. It was so painfully important that Narcissa felt like she might simply break apart from the inside unless she was able to speak to him about what had happened, what was happening to her small child who was still a minor.
Bella continued to ramble on, speaking something about how Lucius and Rodolphus were rather the same in that neither of them had been able to stay by their wives, that both of them had abandoned the sisters and therefore the sisters had to stick together, but Narcissa did not hear her at all, seeing as the door finally opened, and Severus Snape stepped inside.
Severus Snape was not a particularly objectively handsome man. His face was too disproportionate and his nose was large, his eyes were too dark which made him appear to be without irises. Sadness and struggle had left the face somewhat wrinkled and his hair always appeared to be slightly dirty and oily, even though it never was. He generally dressed in layers of black which utterly hid his body from view, in contrast to Lucius, who remained collected and fashionable when he layered his black clothing. Severus was the type of man who most would avoid on a basis of him appearing humorless, and his somewhat nasal voice caused most to conclude that he was presumptuous and therefore unpleasant. He appeared everything which a Death Eater and follower of the Dark Lord, or even a Dark Mage, should be, and yet Narcissa knew him not to be. Around his neck hung a necklace which depicted the phases of the moon, with a single full moon in the middle. The conclusive evidence that the man was loved, and not any of the things which people would assume at first glance.
Narcissa abandoned the sofa and hurried over to the man, grabbing his hands without realising that she could be overstepping his boundaries. “Severus, have you learnt of Draco’s quest?”
The man blinked at her, slight confusion was replaced by understanding, and he nodded slowly. “I have,” his voice trembled slightly as he spoke. “It is not a task I find suitable for one so young as him.”
“Can you help him, please?” Narcissa wasted little time in begging for the man’s assistance, for Draco’s sake.
“Hold on there, Cissy!” Bella jumped to her feet and came over to them as she frowned angrily at Severus. “He didn’t respond to the summoning of our Dark Lord! He didn’t assist us in the battle against the Order or the Aurors. He hasn’t even come until now, when he was specifically summoned! He isn’t loyal, you can’t trust him! Don’t tell him about Draco’s task or he’ll run to Dumbledork and report it right into his ear.”
Narcissa attempted to ignore her sister, but the man turned his attention towards her, focusing on her face as he spoke, without any particular emotion reflected within either his expression or his voice. “I am indeed not loyal to the Dark Lord, nor have I ever been, despite being sympathetic to his cause. The Lord himself is highly aware of this fact, and has not demanded my loyalty.”
Bella’s eyes looked like they were about to exit their sockets as she gaped at the other man. “You… you lie!” She gasped, “the Dark Lord would never keep someone like you among his followers. You lie!”
“If I was indeed lying, and if the Dark Lord himself was so utterly displeased with me, then I would not be standing here speaking to you, as I have just concluded my meeting with him. As you can confirm by my presence, he does not find my lack of loyalty to be problematic, and he has given me a collection of tasks to perform. I shall perform them to the best of my ability, as I have done previously.” He added the final comment when Bella looked as if she was about to argue with him further.
Bella changed her strategy and instead grabbed Narcissa’s arm, pulling the two of them closer. “Cissy has recently been abandoned by her good for nothing, traitorous husband. How can you expect her to trust another, admittedly disloyal man.” She projected her own insecurity and her abandonment by her own husband upon Narcissa, who shared none of her sentiments.
Narcissa decidedly pushed her sister away from her, much to Bella’s disapproval, and focused on Severus once more. “I do not care about your loyalty, I care about my son’s life. If he is left to perform the task alone then… I cannot fathom what will become of him, should he either fail or succeed. Severus, you must help us. You must help Draco.”
“I will do everything in my power to assure that Draco is not harmed as he strives to complete the task.” Severus spoke with such certainty that it brought tears to Narcissa’s eyes as she finally dared to hope that her son might not lose his life to the quest which had been trusted upon him.
“That’s not enough,” Bella crossed her arms over her chest as her expression appeared to become both darker and more dangerous.
Narcissa felt an odd throb of fear within her chest, one which she knew that a sibling should never have to feel while looking to their own family member.
“Make him swear it,” Bella hissed, “make him use the Unbreakable Vow.”
As silence settled over the room as three pairs of eyes studied and glanced at one another, all of them seeking whoever would avert their gaze first, or attempt to speak up.
“No.”
Bella and Severus both looked at her, each of them wore a confused expression upon their faces, although hers was more pronounced than his.
“No,” Narcissa repeated, her voice becoming steadier as her determination grew.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Bella raised her voice as she pointed at Severus. “It’s the only way you could possibly be able to trust him.”
“He is the Godfather of my child,” Narcissa spoke back to her sister for the first time since Bella came out of her fireplace and begged for help to hide from the Ministry of Magic. “He was handpicked by my husband, and he has been a good friend to me. I will not bind him by any vow which might place him and my child in equal danger to what they are attempting to accomplish.”
Bella’s eyes bulged once more as she stomped her foot and shook her head, a gesture which Narcissa recognised from when they had been children. “Lucius betrayed us!”
“He betrayed you!” Narcissa snapped back. “Not Draco. Not me. You!”
To Narcissa’s great shock, tears filled Bella’s eyes, her expression changing so quickly that Narcissa almost thought that she had been looking at a projection. Then the expression twisted with hate as Bella turned from her, pushed Severus to the side in a violent shove, and ran away somewhere into the manor while attempting to not allow herself to sob.
Narcissa had the impulse to run after her, but she forced herself to think of Draco, thus turning back to the one man who could help her. “Without Draco… Without Lucius... I’d be all alone. Please, I love my son more than anything, can you truly help him?” She fought the tears back as she yet again begged the disloyal Death Eater to rescue her child.
Severus carefully but decidedly reached for her arm, before he grabbed her hand and held it gently but tightly. “I can and I shall,” Severus promised.