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"Avada Kedavra."
The word was whispered quietly at the breakfast table, the other occupant caught completely unawares with a fork full of eggs halfway to his mouth. There had been no time to move, to defend; barely enough time to even register the words before the green spell hit him.
Narcissa surveyed her handiwork for a moment, then summoned an elf. "Moddy!"
"Yes mistress?" it asked, popping into the room.
"Dispose of that without leaving a trace."
"Yes, mistress," it agreed, then popped away with Lucius's body.
With a small smile, Narcissa resumed her own meal. She had been so angry with Lucius last night; so infuriated that he had put her son in such danger. And to have lost an important artifact from the Dark Lord as well! Narcissa and Bellatrix had been entrusted with those artifacts, and Lucius had no call to remove hers from her vault!
Narcissa had known it was a bad idea to give him access to her vault, but it had been a part of the betrothal contract, pushed for by old Abraxas. Clearly he'd been smart enough to know that Narcissa might not tolerate Lucius forever, and might want to squirrel away enough gold in her vault for a fresh start.
Of course, that wasn't necessary anymore. With Lucius dead, the Malfoy estate and riches would pass to Draco. As he was underage, Narcissa would obviously be his reagent. As she already controlled the Lestrange affairs on her sister's behalf, — one day the Dark Lord would free his loyal followers from prison, and Narcissa wouldn't have the ministry claiming everything and leaving her sister destitute when that happened — Narcissa was perfectly capable of managing the Malfoy estate as well.
Lucius thought he had calmed Narcissa down last night, after the full details of his stupidity were revealed, but she had simply folded that anger inside of her, hidden behind her perfect pureblood mask. Beneath it, however, she had turned that anger ice cold, hard as a diamond and ready to slice through her opponent. She had always been excellent at using her emotions for that sort of thing, and it wouldn't be the first time that Lucius had been on the receiving end of her concentrated power.
It would be the last, however.
Once Draco arrived home in a few days, Narcissa would be having a long talk with him. She had allowed Lucius to get away with teaching him all kinds of bad habits, unbefitting a Black, and those ended now.
Later today, Narcissa would use some of Lucius's stored hairs and her personal stock of polyjuice to masquerade as him. It would take no time at all to obtain an international portkey, and she knew a spell that would activate it without a passenger. With that trail laid, everyone would assume that he had fled, leaving her and Draco behind.
Hopefully that shock and betrayal would help snap Draco out of his hero-worship of the man. Narcissa loved her son dearly, but his attempts to imitate his father, — without any of the cunning and tact Lucius had mastered — drove her up the wall. That would be nipped in the bud this summer, and her son would finally behave like a proper scion of the Black family, and the future follower of the Dark Lord that he was meant to be.
o
Narcissa proudly watched her son mingle with his peers on the platform. It hadn't taken long at all for him to accidentally discover that Lucius's office in the manor was no longer warded against him. Since that would only happen if the head of the family were dead, Narcissa had the taken her 'suspicions' to the head of the DMLE, who had performed a heritage test that proved Lucius was gone.
Unfortunately, it had taken her far longer — the better part of the summer — to handle Draco's reeducation. For a while, Narcissa had despaired; he seemed un-teachable, and if the Dark Lord returned now, he would surely kill Draco for his impudence and incompetence. Fear of that fate drove Narcissa onwards, and though she might have been too hard on Draco, better he suffer that at the hands of his loving mother than those of the merciless Dark Lord.
But now, after an exhausting summer, Draco was finally acting as a proper young Black. His tendency to speak without thinking was curbed, as was his hard-headed belief that he would someday best Potter by running his mouth. Snape hadn't done her son any favors in that regard either, constantly protecting the boy from consequences so that he never learned.
Lucius had been just as bad, buying Draco's place on the Quidditch team. Her son was a fantastic flyer, but no one would ever believe that he had earned his place on the team, thanks to Lucius's generosity.
Well, now Draco knew better, and instead of relying on adults to smooth the way for him, he was going to have to prove himself to her standard. No more coasting through classes, assured that Lucius would hand him whatever job he wanted after Hogwarts. No more relying on Snape to award him House Points for no reason, or punish those who disagreed with Draco, falsely boosting his popularity.
Draco now understood that, while those attitudes might help him in the short term, they would always work against him in the long run. After all, the Dark Lord would not be impressed that Draco had been handed loads of unearned House Points, or that his grades had been fudged to pass every class, if he was too uneducated to actually be of service. Narcissa expected her son to be at the top of his class on his own merits, and he was painfully aware of that fact now.
He was also aware that Narcissa expected him to mingle with his peers at Hogwarts beyond the Crabbe and Goyle boys — their fathers were friends of Lucius, and Narcissa had finally convinced Draco that, rather than making a snow of strength or popularity, their constant attendance upon him made it look as though his father had needed to buy friends for him. Which, of course, he had.
Yet another of Lucius's mistakes that Narcissa was now correcting. Draco finally understood that he needed to make those connections himself, and that he needed to listen when others spoke. If he disagreed with someone, there was no reason not to retain his polite mask, instead of sneering and burning his bridges. When Lucius and Narcissa had graduated Hogwarts, each one had a vast network of friends and acquaintances — not obtained by their parent's money, but by their own hard work politicking in the halls of Hogwarts. Draco had been at risk of leaving Hogwarts with nought but the Crabbe and Goyle boys — for as long as Lucius's sway over their fathers held, at any rate.
But no more. Now her son — not Lucius's son, her son! — stood on the platform and made polite small talk with a number of his Slytherin peers. He even greeted their parents with the proper forms of address, and didn't neglect those who were in other Houses. Narcissa watched him with an eagle eye, ensuring that, at least until he got on the train, he would obey her edicts.
Finally, the warning was sounded, and Draco sauntered onto the train. His trunk had already been placed by their elf — and losing the other one was yet another reason for Narcissa to curse Lucius's memory — and he and Narcissa had said their goodbyes in private. Pureblood, upper class mothers did not smother their children with hugs and wails and admonishments to change their underwear while on a public platform, after all. It didn't mean that Narcissa loved her son any less, or that she hadn't hugged him just as fiercely back in the manor, but she had an image to maintain in public, and so did Draco.
Finally, the scarlet steam engine pulled away, and Narcissa headed towards the apparition point. Draco might be headed off to Hogwarts, but that didn't mean that her work was done. Narcissa had slipped into Lucius's various roles as though she had always been there, and running the Malfoy, Lestrange, and Black estates was no small task.
She was fully capable of it, of course — she was a Black, after all — but it did mean that she had much to do. And between the estates, Draco's reeducation, and preparing for the eventual return of her Dark Lord — because he would return, and reunite her with her sister — Narcissa didn't even have time to miss Lucius, or mourn her role as his wife. She had far too much to do, and in fact, she was enjoying all of the politicking and scheming. She was a Slytherin, after all.