Archive of Our Own

Narcissa looked at herself in the mirror, hair greasy and a hairsbreadth from being matted down. How could she face Draco like this? He shouldn't see his mother this way. But the thought of actually doing something to fix it was exhausting. Her hair regimen before had taken her almost two hours. Now even just washing it would take just as long to fix the damage done by days and days of just a quick cleaning charm and nothing else.

 She lost her chance to contemplate actually doing more as the pop of apparition sounded from the foyer and Draco’s voice floated up to her. "Mother?" 

She pushed herself up, exhausted, barely with any energy to move, but she would move her baby boy if no one else. "Draco," she said from the banister, her voice cracking from disuse. "One moment and I'll be down." 

He looked up at her with a tentative smile. He was finally getting his feet under him after the war then. The last time he'd been here he'd been a wreck too. But she'd nudged him to find the help that she couldn't stand the thought of and it looked to have worked. She climbed down the stairs slowly, joints aching, head swimming. When was the last time she ate? She didn't remember. Well, at least she'd have something with Draco and then that need would be fixed. He came forward when she finally hit the bottom and hugged her, hard before pulling back and looking her over with concerned eyes. "Are you ok?"

And of course she couldn't tell him the truth, no she couldn't stand for that. "I'm fine dear, really. Just trying a few new things in my beauty regimen is all. I don't think it's working but I decided to give it a bit more time." If she'd said it with half of her former confidence he might have believed her, but she wasn't that woman anymore. She wasn't sure what woman she was.

 "When I..." Draco trailed off and swallowed hard. "Right after the war ended, you remember, I couldn't wash my hair. I couldn't do anything." She remembered. She felt so helpless and had held on to herself to make sure that she could be there for him. Of course that had meant encouraging him to leave and well....here she was, nothing to hold on for and this was what it wrought. "I think after therapy the thing that most helped was just. Making things easier for myself. I cut off my hair." He laughed. "You hated it. I told you it was what the wizards in France were doing. It wasn't. It was just so it was easier to take care of. Maybe...maybe you could cut your hair too and it would be easier?" The suggestion was oh so tentative, but he looked like he would do anything to help her.

However, her brain just couldn't quite handle the suggestion. Women were supposed to wear their hair long. Her mother had drilled it into her. "Cut it off?" She echoed.

"Yeah, I mean you'd look good in any style, mother. But short would mean it doesn't take you...what was it two hours you said that perfection took when I was little. That's far too much when moving across the room hurts."

"I..." she trailed off. He had a point but....she...she wasn't ready for that yet.

"Just think about it. I don't want to put anymore pressure on you ok? Now when was the last time you ate?" And he shuffled her towards her favorite parlor, calling for one of the few house elves left to bring them tea.

--

It weighed heavily on Narcissa, up in the middle of the night once more because as exhausted as she was, she could hardly sleep. She looked at herself in the mirror in the moonlight, and while the darkness was kinder to her, it still wasn’t kind enough. She looked old and dirty and worn, like an old dress discarded. And that’s what she felt like, really. Draco had increased his visits as much as could be reasonably expected of him, but he had his own life and she still felt so very alone in this huge manor that had never truly felt like home, even more so now after him . Her hands were itching to do something, anything, but what could she do when just sitting here at her vanity was work enough?

“Mistress?” Ixy said, timidly. “Master Draco said if you weren’t to be sleeping I was to be offering you a sleeping draught.”

Narcissa shook her head. “It’s a good thought, Ixy, but those have herbs that are known to make chemical imbalances worse.” She knew that that was all this was, a chemical imbalance, but that didn’t mean that her knowledge actually helped the situation. If anything at times it made her feel more helpless, that her own brain was betraying her in this way. 

Ixy perked up a bit. “Master Draco be saying that the kind he is giving Ixy isn’t bad for Mistress!”

She blinked and actually managed to look at the elf now. “What?”

The little thing handed over a sheet of parchment she’d been holding. “Master Draco was being saying that Mistress might want to know the ingredients so he be giving Ixy a list!”

Narcissa took it from the elf and read over it. Ixy was right, none of the things on here would potentially complicate already complicated brain chemistry. It was just a gentle nudge to sleep, lavender, magnesium, valerian root, and passion flower, brewed under the new moon. It should work, though considering it wasn’t quite as strong there was a chance that her insomnia could overcome it still. It was better than nothing, she supposed. 

“Thank you, Ixy.” She held out her hand and the elf put the vial into it. 

“Is Mistress be needing anything else?”

Narcissa shook her head. “No, Ixy, go get some sleep, I’ll endeavor to as well.” 

Ixy popped off and Narcissa was alone again, now with a vial of sleep aid, but still left with her reflection in the mirror. She picked up her wand. She really would sleep better if she was clean. How long had it been since she’d taken a bath? At least a week, perhaps two? She couldn’t remember anymore. She could barely remember anything these days. She’d tried to do better after the confrontation with Draco, and she had for a while, but here she was again. She looked at her hair and sneered. Salazar, she hated it so much in this moment. She’d always been so proud of it her entire life and now.

“Accio scissors,” she said absently, still gripping her wand. Scissors came to her, clattering against the vanity because she in no way could respond fast enough to catch them. Sure, it had been foolish to summon something that could harm her without being prepared, but what did it matter, really? She picked up the shears and looked at them. Just...if she did this, how much should she cut off? How much would make her feel better? Her hair was currently brushing her lower back with ease, greasy as the curtain of it was. Anything shorter would be easier, yes, but how much easier.

“Oh to hell with it,” she whispered to herself, grabbed a hock of hair and snipped just under her ear. And then another. And another. And another. Until all the way around her head, though she wasn’t quite as sure about the back, her hair was just around her ears. She looked at herself in the mirror, wholly changed, still dark hair with blonde streaks, just so much less of it now. She blinked. She hated this dye job, something permanent her mother had forced on her on her wedding day because she was jealous that Narcissa would fit so seamlessly into the Malfoy family with her platinum blonde hair. She wanted to make sure that Narcissa remembered that her roots were in the Black family forever and always just by looking in a mirror. No. No more of this. No more of anyone choosing anything for her. She was a Black and a woman who married into that name didn't get to dictate how she lived.

She picked up her wand again and pointed it at her hair and whispered the counter spell that she’d looked up the second that her mother was out of sight once she’d butchered her hair, but had never had the courage to use, and watched as her hair turned back to a honeyed blonde more like Draco’s than Lucius’s. She sighed a bit relieved. She could. She could deal with this. She felt around the hacked off hair, feeling lighter than she had in days. It actually looked good on her, complimented her face like this. She...she felt different.

Narcissa stood, setting down the vial of potion on the vanity and walked towards the bathroom. It would only take perhaps ten minutes to wash her hair at this length. She could manage that. She felt more attached to it than she had in months, felt more in her body than since the end of the war. Somehow this felt like progress, if only a little, and she would take what she could get.

--

Narcissa entered a little used salon four streets off of Diagon two weeks later. She’d been able to keep herself clean more reliably now. Draco had been right, of course her sweet smart boy was right, he was brilliant after all. She felt that actually getting a real haircut, to style the middle of the night butchery that she’d made of it into something fabulous, would only make her feel just that little bit better. She was craving those little bits more and more now. Oh, her days were mostly still spent staring into space, washed in ennui, but she could move now at least a couple times a day. She made sure she ate a meal and washed and if she did that she called it good enough. Ixy, of course, was Merlin-sent for all this too. She didn’t know what she would do without her. Freeing her was something that had crossed her mind, but the little elf might not take that kindly. She would figure something out. 

“Hello there!” A cheery voice called from the back. “I’ll be with you in a moment.” 

Narcissa had chosen this place because it was out of the way and no one would expect her to come here. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing someone she had once known, had once thought of as a friend. They...they wouldn’t understand the sea change she was going through. They would be the same bigots as before, just quieter about it. Narcissa couldn’t stand that, wouldn’t stand it. So she had gone out of the way, to a place where she would have never gone before that looked far too run down and trying to be hip and cheap for the young crowd. If anywhere knew how to style women’s hair in short styles, it would most likely be here, she decided.

A woman popped up with bright green hair and approximately eight earrings in each ear, magical tattoos on her arms moving, cherry blossoms raining down from a tree on one arm and twinkling stars on the other. Narcissa had to dig her nails into her palms, suddenly remembering her estranged niece who looked like she would have gotten along with this woman swimmingly. She was dead because of the side she’d aligned herself with. She tried to take a deep breath, tried to act normal, but she felt herself spiraling. Oh no, not here, anywhere but in front of some other person, a perfect stranger at that.

“Oh,” the woman said, “Ok, it’s ok, I don’t mean any harm.” Her voice was calm and smooth. “Panic attacks are a real bugger aren’t they. I’m going to go get you a glass of water. There are chairs over there, why don’t you sit down.”

Narcissa couldn't begin to even look for chairs right now. The walls were closing in and she was doing all she could to remain upright. She felt dizzy, probably hyperventilating but she couldn’t slow her breathing down. Oh Merlin was she going to pass out?

A chair pressed into the back of her legs insistently and she sank down without meaning to. A cup of cold water was pressed into her hands. 

“Do me a favor and concentrate on the coldness of the cup, ok?” The woman said.

Narcissa grabbed onto the suggestion, feeling the cold, feeling it numb her hands slightly, looking at the blurry, shaking reflection of herself in the water. 

“Good, good, now breath with me if you can, ok?” She took a slow, deep breath for a count of three and then held it for a count, before letting it out.

Narcissa tried to follow her, and for the first few minutes she did an absolutely shite job of it, but slowly but surely she found herself able to match the pattern. Things were coming more into focus around her, the hardness of the cheap chair, the feel of her clothing against her skin, the sweat of the cup of water leaking onto her hands. She blinked again at looked at the woman who was sitting cross legged in front of her a few feet away.

“Hey there, back to the land of the living?”

Narcissa couldn’t help the owlish look she sent her. “I suppose I am,” she said, taking a sip of the water when she found herself parched. 

“Good.” She smiled and it lit up the room. “Name’s Freya, yes like the goddess, moms had a sense of humor, I guess.” She shrugged. “And you’re Mrs. Malfoy, nice to meet you outside of the pages of that stupid ass paper.”

“Black,” she found herself saying. “Narcissa Black. I don’t--I can’t, I don’t want to be her anymore.”

And Freya nodded like she understood. “Ghosts of the war have to be moved on from, don’t they?”

She looked at the woman again, taking her in slowly and swallowed hard. “Yes, I’m sorry I--”

“Don’t mention it. I have panic attacks too from the war. Anytime I see anyone who looks like my best friend. And you looked just like you saw a ghost. You don’t need to explain. I get it.” She looked at Narcissa’s hair with a smile. “I like the color, looks better on you than that skunk do, you here to clean up the edges?”

Narcissa nodded, glad to be on firmer ground again. “I, um, I wanted a change and I couldn’t seem to wait until the morning to do it,” she joked weakly. 

“Let me tell you, that’s how I got started in all of this, moms hated it, both of them found hair everywhere half the time, but hey now I own my own business so at least it got me somewhere, huh?” She pointed at one of two chairs. “Right over there if you would, and I can hook you up. Anything you were thinking of specifically?”

She shook her head. “I just...I just want it to look good.”

“Well, now that I can deal with, if you trust me a bit, huh?”

Narcissa, Slytherin Ice Queen who trusted no one and schemed her life away that she was, that she had once been, nodded. She trusted this woman after only a few minutes. How could she not. She sat down and let Freya’s hands run through her hair and nod. 

“I have a few treatments to help your scalp. It looks like you’ve managed decently recently, but it’s still recovering, right?” And there was no judgement at all.

“Right,” she said, stiffly, not wanting to confirm, but knowing she needed to.

A hand squeezed her shoulder. “Good on ya then. We’ll just have a little spa day while we’re at it and when you walk out the door you’ll feel a new woman, Narcissa Black in the flesh, hmm?”

When Narcissa did walk out the door as the sun was setting, hair softer than it had been in an age, more lifelike and flowing and beautiful, styled shorter than she would have ever taken it herself, a pixie cut with dramatic bangs that suited her face so well she wondered how she hadn’t thought of it herself, she did feel like Narcissa Black. She was exhausted, undone, overstimulated, and felt like she could sleep for five years, but she felt whole. She felt new. And she had gladly taken the next appointment card from Freya for six weeks hence with a kind smile from the woman and a confirmation that an owl would be sent out the day before to remind her. She would probably need the reminder, but she still looked forward to the next hair cut even if her memory would fail her. Just as long as she kept her appointment, it would be fine.

--

Three months of consistent appointments, three months of slowly getting herself out into the sunshine, of increasing one meal and a shower a day to two meals, a shower, and brushing her teeth, and she felt ready for something...more. 

Draco appeared in the foyer again and she walked down the stairs to meet him, this time the opposite of that first time. She was dressed in new clothes and her hair wasn’t styled, but it was clean and presentable. She even had the ghost of a real smile to offer him.

“Ixy has tea in the garden. The sun is good for me. I’m sure it won’t do you any arm, even with that patented Malfoy complexion.”

Her son stuck out his tongue. The Blacks, for as pale as they could be, her and her sisters had been able to tan easily enough. The ghost of the Meditterranian blood in the Rosier line, she suspected, but Draco had inherited none of that.

“Yes, yes vitamins and minerals and whatever else.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m blaming you if I get sunburnt.”

“You do look dashing as a lobster, darling.” And this time her smile was more than a ghost, but real and full, and it felt good to wear again.

“Salazar, I almost forgot how beautiful you are when you really smile.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard. “I’m glad you’re doing better, mother, I really am,” he whispered into her hair.

“So am I, Dragon, so am I.” She stepped back after a long, long minute. “But come before the tea gets cold and the sandwiches warm and all of Ixy’s hard work is ruined.” Not that everything wasn’t under a stasis spell, but it was time enough to move along with their afternoon.

She sat them down in her favorite part of the garden, the one planted with daffodils and tulips in the spring and snapdragons and gardenias in the summer. She had used to tend to this area herself, something to keep her busy and out of the manor when she’d been a bored housewife and nothing more, but now she realized it was a bit beyond her currently. One of the other elves, Oppy, had been more than happy to help her get everything back up to how it should be one day in early spring. She had sat back and explained what she wanted and caught the first rays of the sun she’d felt free in, in ages. And then afterwards she had gone back to her rooms and collapsed into bed, the activity a bit too much for her, but she had felt satisfied nevertheless. Now, and every time she was out here, it was certainly worth the day she’d been in bed.

“So, how are you and Astoria getting on?” Narcissa asked.

Draco blushed and looked away. “It was nice for a few weeks, but I don’t think it will last.”

“Oh?” He’d been crushing on the girl for ages, second only behind Hermione Granger, though she wasn’t sure Draco had ever registered that as a crush.

“She’s brilliant and lovely and everything but after a few dates I just...she’s an excellent friend and nothing more.” He still wasn’t looking at her.

“And what made you realize this?” Because there had to be something underlying that blush and her Slytherin instincts wouldn’t let her rest until she figured it out, gently, though, since this was her son after all. 

He hemmed and hawed for a bit but she was patient. He would tell her in due time. “I--I just--It’s a bit complicated and--” Then he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders and looked her in the eye, calmly, jaw set in a determined fashion. Narcissa swallowed. Oh. This was her baby boy as a man. She’d seen glimpses of who he would be, of course, but now...he was here fully formed, trial by fire had forged the last pieces into place now. The lines of his face might still be settling as he hit his last growth spurt as he exited his teens and moved towards his twenties, but he was here nonetheless. “I’ve been working on actually being able to say what I mean in therapy, actually, and this seems a good enough spot for that, I suppose. Mother I...I’m bisexual.”

And she looked at her boy turned man and smiled for the second time that day. “So am I. It seems you inherited something else from me, even if the ability to tan wasn’t one of those things.” She waved her wand and a sunscreen charm applied itself to his already reddening cheeks. 

Draco looked stunned. “What?”

“It’s...It’s been something I’ve been working out myself in these past few months. I suppose going to Freya’s shop has helped. That woman is very much gayer than a rainbow, bless her. She made a joke about it being a shame I didn’t ‘play for the home team’ as it were and I said something to effect of ‘I wouldn’t mind it’ and from there, well, I’ve had a great amount of time to think. I’m...not sure about how I feel about all of this still. The ghost of your grandmother is strong, especially with the way things are, but...when I looked at myself through that lens things make sense, more sense than they did before. So I’m dealing with it.” 

He just sat there stunned for a long moment. “Well, I, um, Harry Potter?”

“Ah, is that who caught your attention over Astoria?” That wasn’t surprising after all that school rivalry. She should have seen that one coming like she saw the crush on Hermione, really. A spectre of blackness crossed her mind for a few long moments, telling her that she wasn’t worthy to be called a mother, that she hadn’t protected her son, that she was scum of the earth and shouldn’t be here right now. But she took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes, counting to ten, letting the thoughts roll through her without stopping them, just letting them go as they occurred. When she opened her eyes again Draco’s gaze was soft and he reached out a hand to her.

“And um? Ginny too?”

And she laughed. No matter how good a mother, she wouldn’t have seen that one coming. “And how is that going?”

“I really don’t know, actually. I could use your advice.”

“Now that I can provide.” She squeezed his hand gently, sipping her tea with the other, bathed in sunlight and finally, finally , feeling just the barest ray of true happiness. 

It seemed that his real problem was trying to get both of them to understand that he wasn’t interested in tearing the two of them apart, more that he was interested in them both. Which, considering they were thickheaded Gryffindors, Narcissa didn’t find surprising. Communication work or not, Draco would have his hands full. She planted a seed in his mind about letters perhaps being the best way to spell out every single thing without getting flustered in the moment and he looked thoughtful. He may or may not take her suggestion, but she had a feeling no matter he’d figure it out. He’d done so well on his own so far. Tears pricked at her eyes at that thought. The bitter and the sweet of that was weighing in her mind and she didn’t know which side would win today. A wave of exhaustion settled over her and suddenly she was done being in the garden.

“Mother?” Draco asked, sensing the change.

“I’m fine, Draco, just suddenly tired.”

“Was it something I said?” He looked so concerned, a little boy wanting to fix a vase he’d broken but without the magic to do so.

“No, Dragon, it wasn’t, not really.” She gestured at her head vaguely. “You know how can be at points, yes?”

He nodded and held her hand for a long time. Narcissa forced herself to down an entire sandwich of little cut out tea squares and finished her tea. The thoughts were roaring in and she sensed that she’d be bedridden for a day, maybe longer this time. She pinched her nose with her free hand. This cyclical nature of things was perhaps the worst part. She felt herself getting better and then suddenly it was like the floor had fallen out from under her. She knew it was normal. She did. And yet she still just felt so helpless and black and terrible that she never wanted to climb out again.

“Mother,” he said gently. “You’ve done a lot yourself, and I am proud, more than proud, really, considering you never had anyone to show you how to do this, but maybe it’s time for therapy now? It could help you. It helped me. You’re the one who encouraged me to go after all.” He looked at her knowingly. “And you aren’t as bad as you were before. No one has to see you like that, no one will ever know how far you fell.”

This time her laugh was humorless. She was a Slytherin to the end. So was he. She knew he understood, perhaps far more than she wanted. 

“I’ll think about it,” she said, finally after a few long moments, demons whispering in her ear the entire time.

“That’s all I would ever ask.”

She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and standing. “I know, Dragon. I do know. Stay and finish your meal, I’m going to retire now. Thank you for coming to see me,” she said pleasant to the last. And then she turned on her foot, appearing in her bedroom, and collapsing on the bed, tears already flowing from her eyes. 

--

The room was bright, windows flung open to the summer air. It was a great deal like what she thought it would be, chairs, plush and luxurious, but still scattered around in a circle, a few other people milling about waiting for things to begin. She hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of one on one therapy. There was something just too...vulnerable in being alone with another person and baring her soul. She didn’t understand why group therapy sounded better to her, there were so many other people there, that would know of her struggles, but her brain would not let her schedule a one on one appointment, but had indeed let her owl off about a group session. It had caused her no end of grief since then, really, but here she was.

Except.

There across the room was Hermione Granger. She’d recognize that hair anywhere. No. No, she couldn’t do this with that woman in this room. She’d done too much to hurt her. The shadows of past sins in her mind would haunt her so much more than they did now if she had to sit down and hear about what she’d just stood by and watched Bellatrix do to an innocent child. She felt her breathing speed up. No, she had to get away before she went fully catatonic. She’d try another group in a few weeks. It would be fine.

Except then Hermione’s eyes were on her, widening in fear for a moment, and then understanding set in. She stepped forward, towards Narcissa, walking briskly like a woman on a mission and Narcissa only had moments to escape, but she honestly forgot how she was supposed to apparate now. She’d been performing the spell for over twenty years, but now it just slipped from her mind like water through her hands.

And a tawny skinned hand extended itself to her. “Mrs. Malfoy, it’s been a while.” 

Narcissa looked at it for a long moment, and couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. She felt herself shaking like a leaf on the wind, felt the edges of her vision go dark. She was really going to pass out this time, wasn’t she? How in the world was she going to convince herself to get help the next time if she passed out now?

“Would it help if I just slapped you to get that out of the way?” Hermione asked, deadpan.

That actually pulled Narcissa back from the edge. “What?” 

“I figured that seeing me might have been the trigger and you were worried about what I might do to you.”

Narcissa shook herself earnestly. “More the opposite, Miss Granger.”

“You didn’t do anything, and before you say anything that’s as much a condemnation as an affirmation.” Her eyes were hard, but not truly unkind, which was more than Narcissa expected.

“No, I didn’t. I should have. There was no excuse for my actions long before that and long after.”

Hermione nodded. “But you have regret.” 

It wasn’t a question but Narcissa answered it like one. “I do.”

“Then this is the place we should deal with our past, don’t you think?” She was steady, resolution in her stance, but with just a little inspection, Narcissa could see the fragility. It was the same bit of fragility she saw in herself.

“Alright,” she said finally.

“Good, then come sit next to me. I’d rather you than Hector.” She grimaced. “He keeps hitting on me, and as much as I’m not fond of you, you are the lesser evil here and I think he’ll be afraid of you.”

Narcissa snorted. “How Slytherin of you to use me.”

Hermione just arched an eyebrow before she turned and made her way to the chairs, sinking down in one right beside a more ornate chair that she guessed was probably the chair for the therapist leading the session. Narcissa wasted no time sitting beside her, feeling the last little bit of panic slide from her shoulders. How entirely peculiar, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

--

It was winter by the time she found herself at Hermione’s side outside of therapy. The night was bitter cold, just before New Year’s in the lull between the two major holidays. She’d been out shopping for her birthday in a few days time in the after Christmas sales, a treat for herself she’d decided to get for celebrating her first six months in therapy. She was better, more consistently happy now, though certainly not healed. She would take the improvement though, and she would certainly take the nice dress she had planned to buy herself before she’d run into the other woman outside Florish and Blotts, almost literally, considering they’d both been absorbed in their tasks.

“Oh, sorry,” Hermione said absently, looking up and then realizing it was Narcissa. “Oh hey, Narcissa, didn’t see you there.”

Six months had given them time to come to a detente, but not truly a truce as of yet. “I apologize as well, I was wrapped up in my own shopping and not paying attention to where I was going.”

Hermione held up the book she’d been skimming. “Not as bad as reading a book in the street, probably.” She smiled more easily at her than she had before. “What were you out for? The after Christmas sale at all the bookshops are just to die for, but I don’t imagine you need those what with the size of the Malfoy library.” Her eyes went a bit dreamy at the thought of the library.

“I still do like modern literature, and the Malfoy library is mostly very heavy tomes on magical theory. Good for some days but others…” Well her brain had been getting better about being able to think in more a complex manner again, but really if she wanted to read she wanted something more like cotton candy for her brain, not magical theory.

“I understand.” She dug in her bag and pulled out what looked to be a rather salacious romance novel, interestingly with two witches entwined on the front. “I read plenty of books like that too.” She slipped her books back in her bag. “So no books then, but what?”

“A new dress as a celebration of both my birthday and…” she trailed off for a moment before deciding that she could continue on and no harm would come from it, “for six months of forward progress.”

Hermione smiled at her tentatively. “That sounds nice.”

“Yes, I think it will be, really.” 

And then they stood looking at each other for a few long moments. Narcissa didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to excuse herself from this conversation. Maybe...maybe they were ready for the air to be cleared. But here, in Diagon, and not in therapy? Why would they do it here? Salazar knew, sometimes, why brains made the choices they did, she supposed.

“Would you like to accompany me, Miss Granger?”

Hermione blinked up at her for a moment before the Gryffindor surety appeared. “I think I would.”

So there they were, walking side by side in the cold night air, passing shop after shop that Narcissa had meant to look in, but neither of them made any move to do anything other than continue forward.

“So,” Hermione said, breath fogging in front of her like a dragon contained in curly brown hair and tawny skin.

“So,” Narcissa agreed, not really knowing where to start either, just that it was time.

“Six months,” Hermione continued, mercifully. “You’ve gotten better. Even I could see it.”

“I have. So have you.”

“Yes, well, I’m functional again, I think. Better than breaking down in the DLME office, anyway. Still not going back to work at the Ministry, I don’t think. I think I’m going to go for my certification in Transfiguration. The replacement McGonagall got for the position wants to retire in the next five years and I plan to be her replacement. I think it would be good for me, seeing kids growing up peacefully, to be surrounded by them and their hope for the future.”

Narcissa nodded. “I’m going to sell the manor, I’ve decided. I’m moving into London, proper, I think. Near…” Well she wanted to be near Andromeda, but she hadn’t really thought of it in those terms yet. She wasn’t strong enough to reach out to her sister. If she rejected Narcissa she worried about the spiral she could be sent on. Her progress was good, but still so fragile she couldn’t risk it.

“I understand.”

Narcissa looked at the woman, and found that from what she could see of her profile, that she did understand.

“I’m sorry,” Narcissa said instead of continuing on that thought, blurting it out into the cold air where it floated on the frosted wind. “I wish I could change my actions that day, but looking back now with a clearer mind...I don’t think I would have. Draco...he would have been in danger if I had acted and I...you didn’t deserve it. None of your friends did.”

“No. We didn’t.” She turned to Narcissa, eyes almost black in the winter darkness. “But just as you’ve thought about everything these last few months so have I. I know that you couldn’t have acted without Draco being in danger. I can accept that. But with only that knowledge I don’t think I could have forgiven you?”

She arched a blonde eyebrow. “That implies that you found something that you could.”

“I did. I talked to Luna. To Griphook. To everyone who stayed in your dungeons. They were your responsibility, were they not?”

Narcissa nodded. She hadn’t done anything special, really, she’d just made sure they had food and water and she hadn’t ever been the ones to inflict pain on them. She...she hadn’t wanted to. That was never why she wanted the war to happen. She really hadn’t wanted the second war at all, really. Her ardor for the cause had died with the first, though she was willing to go along with it until finally, finally she had realized in the forest it wasn’t worth it.

“They told me that you were kind to them, as kind as anyone could be. It was action, more than inaction, I think, that allowed me to see you were a pawn like all of us, of two mad men fighting a war that never needed fought.”

She blinked. “Dumbledore?”

“Yes, I’m talking about him. He…” She looked away. “No one sane uses child soldiers, Narcissa.”

And on that she had to agree.

They walked in silence for another long while. “Where do we go from here,” she finally managed to ask. Her voice was shaking a little, both from the seeping chill and nerves. She felt on the precipice of something truly new, something truly monumental, but she didn’t understand what.

Hermione turned to her, stopping in the street now. They were on a side street, not many people around, all scurrying to the next store with how cold it was, not paying them any mind. “I’m not sure. I think we could be friends, don’t you?”

Narcissa found herself so taken aback she actually took a step backwards. She had never thought that this was where the conversation was going. “Really?”

The younger witch shrugged as if this wasn’t a huge step for them both. “What better way to heal than making new friends. People learn new perspectives when they talk to new people after all.”

“I...I suppose you are right.”

Hermione’s smile was a small, bright thing. “Good. Now. I believe we’ve passed every single dress shop in Diagon. Where did you want to check out first?”

“Uh I,” She cleared her throat. Would Gryffindors ever stop surprising her? “The new shop, Yvette’s Custom Designs, I think is what it’s called. Bespoke tailoring never can go wrong, especially if it’s a piece made just for you.”

“Then lead on.” Hermione gestured forward and Narcissa took the first step hesitantly, until the other witch dropped beside her, completely in step as they walked back towards Diagon proper.

--

It was spring again when Narcissa finally invited Hermione over to tea. The garden on her new townhome was very large for the city, but nothing like the one at Malfoy Manor. She liked it better, really. The Manor was now serving as an home for war orphans who were using all the stuffy topiary as imaginary steeds, and more was the better. Now she filled her garden with all the flowers she wanted, and not what looked best together. She was the one who had gotten her hands dirty to do it. The change inside of her at truly shaping her own environment, with the decoration of the new house and landscaping of the new garden, she felt...on an even keel. There had been no major setbacks in a good while and she just felt, at peace, really. It only made sense to invite Hermione over now.

The doorbell rang and Ixy answered. She and Oppy were the only elves she had kept in her service after downsizing. The rest of the elves were now paid workers at the group home and honestly seemed happier for it with all the work they had to do and the little gifts the children liked to leave them.

Hermione emerged out into the garden and smiled at Narcissa. “You know, this was exactly what I was imagining. It looks just like you.”

Narcissa felt herself blushing and looking away, biting her lip, more bashful than she could ever remember herself being. “Thank you, Hermione. It was healing to put together, really.”

“I could see how. I felt the same way when I enlarged my library at home and built it exactly how I’d always wanted it. Change of environment can be very important for opening up a new chapter.” She laughed. “I sound like our therapist now.”

Narcissa reached up to her hair, still short, though now she was experimenting with something called an undercut to be a bit cooler for summer. Freya assured her she looked “hotter than a sidewalk in the desert” with it, and looking in the mirror she could see what the woman meant. “Change in personal appearance can have the same effect I think and is probably cheaper than landscaping an entire garden.”

Hermione laughed. “Probably, but that doesn’t involve pretty smelling flowers.” She sat in one of the chairs in front of the tea service Ixy had brought out a few minutes before and set to pouring her own tea as if she’d been a guest of Narcissa’s time and time again. Admittedly she found it endearing, though she wasn’t sure if she would think the same of anyone else making themselves so at home.

She joined the other woman at the table and sat down with a pleased sigh. They sat in silence, pouring their tea and fixing their plate of petit fours. She never felt the need to fill the silence with Hermione. She was comfortable with the woman ever since they cleared the air. Now the bees buzzed around her flowers and the breeze whipped around them and she truly relaxed for the first time in years.

“How’s Draco,” Hermione said, tea half gone now and plate of sandwiches almost finished.

Narcissa’s smile was a blaze of light even in the brightness of the afternoon. “He’s wonderful. Harry and Ginny have been a boon to him, I think.”

Hermione giggled. “Watching him try to make them understand what he wanted, even after that letter was hilarious. I don’t know how they interpreted that any other way but the one he meant it and yet .”

“I know,” she said joining in the laughter. “But they seem to have it together now, finally.”

“Ginny still threatens to hex him twice a day at least for being a git, but at this point I think that’s how they flirt.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “The both of them are far too much. But Harry is down to earth enough for the both of them.”

Narcissa nodded her agreement. “He is.” She shook her head. “If you had told me all of this his first year I would have never believed it, but this is better than anything I would have imagined for him. He’s so happy. That’s all I ever wanted really.”

“I know what you mean.”

They sat in that knowledge for a moment before Narcissa asked, “What about you, Hermione? Anyone romantic on your horizon?” She held her breath, nervous for the answer, though she didn’t really understand why.

Hermione looked at her for a long moment, a meaning in her eyes that Narcissa didn’t understand. “Not yet, but I think maybe in time.”

She felt herself deflating a bit at that. Thought she was happy too. Hermione should be happy, to have a life, she deserved it after everything but…

“And you, Narcissa, I know your divorce from Lucius is in the final stages.”

“It will be finalized on the solstice. Pureblood marriages always required a magically significant day to be broken, and the summer solstice is the best one symbolically.”

Hermione nodded, understanding instantly. “Something that has reached its peak and is dying. Magic really does love days with intent and symbolism.” She looked off fondly. “It took a while for me to grasp just how much will magic itself has, that it’s alive. I think coming from a muggle background where nothing really has a soul in the same way it’s hard to wrap your head around. Transfiguration is just talking to magic and convincing it that it’s best chance is in another shape if you think about it.”

“How is your program going now that you mention it?”

Hermione lit up and told her about everything she was doing and Narcissa listened intently. She could listen to Hermione all day every day if the other witch let her. There was just something about the spark she had that Narcissa found endlessly fascinating. That and she truly did love to learn new things, and with Hermione she was learning something new every single day.

“So, what about you,” Hermione asked, coming up for air three cups of tea and half a tome of magical theory later. “Did you ever decide on whether you were going to apply for the healing program?”

Narcissa shook her head. “I decided that I should take a few refreshers first. I don’t want to get in over my head and have to stress myself. It wouldn’t be good for my mental health. Better to go over material I already know and be sure I’m prepared than to have a setback. It might take a bit longer, but I’ve got time.”

Hermione smiled and nodded. “And you do have a good tutor on call, right?”

She shrugged one shoulder as elegantly as she could. The younger witch had been rubbing off on her with that rather uncouth gesture. “Andromeda and I have talked, yes, but I don’t know so much about school work help just yet. I was more hoping for the brightest witch of her age’s help instead.”

“Oh of course! I love N.E.W.T.s level courses. They have all the best bits of secondary schooling, really. Just let me know whenever you need me.”

Narcissa bit her lip again, looking at the woman in front of her and nodded her ascent, words stuck in her throat. She...perhaps she might need more help with her school work than she thought she would. She certainly wouldn’t mind having Hermione over more. Her life just felt...fuller, with the addition of the younger woman in it. She hadn’t really had a true friend like this in ages. It was amazing what one person could add to a life, though she herself was stable on her own now, it was nice to have others to lean on. Hermione, Draco, Harry, Ginny, they all were parts of her life now. The loneliness she had felt years ago at the Manor had lifted, and Narcissa couldn’t help but feel one of the biggest catalysts for that was the witch in front of her, even if that didn’t chronologically make sense. Some people just became a bigger presence, she supposed.

“Even potions,” Narcissa teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. “I do know N.E.W.T.s potions yes, har har, just because I got an E instead of an O. I’m not Severus Snape.”

“Thank Merlin,” Narcissa deadpanned, “I perish to think what you would look like dressed like a human version of a bat.”

Hermione laughed loudly and Narcissa smiled along with her, feeling warm as she picked up another sandwich square and ate it absently, listening as Hermione told her all the times she had had the same exact thought as the afternoon turned to evening around them, unbeknownst to either witch.

--

There was the loud crash of apparition in the entryway of her home. It was long past when anyone should be visiting her, and it had been far too loud for someone just popping in normally. Narcissa had her wand out and creeping towards the stairs in an instant. The open windows blew late summer air at her and made the curtains moved. She almost hexed them, but resisted, not wanting to give herself away until she saw just who had invaded her home. Only Draco and Hermione had permission to apparate directly inside. Ginny and Harry had floo permission of course, but this had definitely been apparition. 

“N-N-Narcissa?!” It was Hermione’s voice, distressed and shouting around tears.

Narciss awas down the stairs in an instant to find Hermione collapsed on the floor. She’d accidentally knocked over the coat rack and that had been the bigger ruckus. She was in front of Hermione in an instant, taking the woman’s face in her hands, looking her over for injuries. 

“Hermione, what is it, are you alright?”

“S-so-somone sent a, a, a, howler, it sounded li-like her,” she managed to get out around sobs. “Didn’t kn-know where else to go, can’t ca-calm down, nothing working.”

Narcissa made a mental note to track down whoever had sent that howler. Hermione was always a bit more apt to have panic attacks in the summer. The heat brought the dreams to the forefront of her mind and a howler like that would have sent her over the edge, surely, even without that extra fuel for the fire. 

“Shh, Hermione, listen to me, it’s fine.” She drew the other witch into her, hugging her hard, hoping that grounded her. This was the first time she was helping to ground someone else instead of someone having to ground her, but she knew what worked generally. “Can you hear my heartbeat? My breathing?” 

A tearful face nodded into her neck, still shuddering, barely pulling oxygen in. 

“Breath with me, feel my hands on your back, and know that if anyone would try to harm you I’d kill them before they ever got the chance.” And she meant it wholeheartedly. She dropped a kiss on the crown of Hermione’s head and then she froze, but only for a moment before continuing to stroke the younger woman’s back. Her own lightning bolt realization of just why she cared for Hermione so much couldn’t get in the way of actually taking care of her.

“I-I-I-I’m sorry,” Hermone said into her neck, still panicking. “I shouldn’t ha-have woken you up.”

“Hermione, I’m going to say this once and I want you to listen to my words. I want you to come to me for help. How many times have I come to you, hmm?” She squeezed her harder. “I mean everything I say. I’ll protect you from howler or wizards or witches or your own demons. I don’t care. I’ll protect you.”

With that Hermione finally started to take deep breaths along with her, filling her lungs with needed air, getting oxygen to the panic starved parts of her brain, and easing the fight or flight. Her muscles relaxed and soon she was just laying in Narcissa’s arms on the floor of the entryway, cool marble sapping heat from their bottoms and legs in the warm air. Narcissa didn’t stop her slow stroking of Hermione’s back though, she kept on as tears kept leaking of Hermione’s eyes. She would sit here until ever limb of hers fell asleep and then some.

It wasn’t nearly that long, but she really couldn’t feel her legs by the time Hermione sat back. “Sorry for crashing in like that, probably should have used the floo.” She looked around at the coat rack that was on its side. “Wouldn’t have knocked over anything that way.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to pronounce your destination correctly. Do not worry yourself, Hermione. Whatever way you come, it doesn’t matter.” She took hold of the younger woman’s chin. “You do understand, right, Hermione? I want you to come here however you can get here if you need help. I mean it.”

Hermione blinked up at her, tears drying on her cheeks and she nodded slightly. “I understand Narcissa.”

“Good.” She dropped her hand after gently wiping away the tear streaks. “Now come on, you’re in no shape to be alone right now and I have extra nightwear for guests that should fit.”

She pushed back and slowly stood on legs that she could just barely feel now. The steps were going to be a nightmare, but she would deal. Hermione needed to feel normal right now and that’s all that mattered. 

Hermione caught her hand, standing too and looking up at Narcissa. “I--Narcisa, I--thank you I just.” Her eyes flicked down to Narcissa’s lips and lingered there and it hit the older witch like a truck. For the past four months Hermione had been giving her similar glances. She hadn’t really realized them but tonight, with Hermione in her arms, with her own realization…

She leaned forward and kissed the woman’s forehead. “In the morning, Hermione, we can talk about that. Right now it would certainly be taking advantage of your emotional state if I kissed you like we both wanted.”

Brown eyes widened. “You-you want to?”

“I may have just figured it out holding you, but yes. I truly do.” She tugged on their joint hands. “Now come, you need sleep after that.”

Hermione obediently followed her up the stairs and into her room, accepting a pair of basic pajamas and changing into them quickly in the bathroom. She laid down in Narcissa’s bed without question and tucked herself into her arms like she belonged there. Narcissa ran her fingers through Hermione’s curls long after the woman had gone to sleep, making sure that her dreams didn’t come for her in the night.

--

Narcissa woke in the morning to Hermione setting a cup of coffee on the nightstand next to her. She smiled at the woman sleepily and stretched. Even though she had fallen asleep rather late, she felt well rested. 

“Did you sleep well,” she asked, voice scratchy from disuse.

Hermione smiled softly. “I did, surprisingly. I think you had everything to do with that.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, setting her own coffee mug beside Narcissa’s before  turning to look at her more fully. “Thank you for last night. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to deal with everything. I...thank you for not kissing me.”

Narcissa nodded. “I said I would protect you, Hermione, I meant it, from everything, including me.”

“It just makes it that much more special today.” 

She watched as Hermione bent over to kiss her, hand curling around her neck gently to lift her just a bit until their lips touched and Narcissa gasped, it was like spring had broken loose in her chest. So many things were blooming inside of her, flooding her with anything and everything she had missed in these past few years. Oh. She was so glad she had put in the work to heal herself so she could actually feel this. She wanted to feel it even more, day in and day out, with this woman at her side.

Hermione drew back and smiled down at her, eyes blown wide and panting just a bit even from a chaste kiss. “Yes. Very special and nothing clouding over just how wonderful that felt.”

She smiled up at her, brilliant and soothed. The precipice of something new, she had submitted, and now here was Hermione to walk down the other side to something known with her. She was excited for the journey for the first time in what felt like ages.

“Ixy wouldn’t let me fix you breakfast in bed, but she did hand over coffee. I assume that either she’ll bring up breakfast when she’s done making it or we’ll have to make our way downstairs. Either way, so long as it’s breakfast with you, I don’t care,” Hermione said, tumbling over Narcissa onto the side of the bed she slept on and cuddling into Narcissa again.

“Ixy has set jobs and she very much likes to do them. I think breakfast is her favorite meal to cook. Now if you had asked to make lunch, she might have let you, but I guarantee nothing.” She smiled. “She’s been a good elf and a good friend through all of this, really.”

“She told me as much. I like her.” Hermione dropped a kiss to Narcissa’s neck that had them both shivering.

Narcissa just hummed and stayed as she was, letting the coffee grow cold. A spell would warm it when they were ready for it. She knew Ixy would wait until she sensed she knew Narcissa actually wanted breakfast, she’d always been good at that. Now they could just bask in the moment of beginning, watching the future stretch out before them, peaks and valleys as they were, but the hardest terrain behind them because now they were together. She could dare now, to sit and watch what they might become in the summer’s morning light and onward.